The War Within Me
by ReemN'Boo
Summary: In 2004, Dr. Edward Cullen was sent on his first Doctors Without Borders MSF mission to Iraq. He expected to find war and destruction, but what he also found turned his life upside down. He wanted to change this world and change it he did, but what changed in his world when a veiled beauty walked into his life and his heart?
1. Prologue

**A\N:**

**Hey all. I can't believe we're really doing this :D. For those who do not Know, this is a Collab between me (Boo Iwmec) and Reem Ooe ..**

**This story has been in the making for months now and it's finally seeing the light.**

**We have SO MANY ppl to thank, I don't know where to start. Mayar our girl, couldn't have done it without you. Katrina *hugs*. Our lovely lovely Mid Night-Cougar who helped tweak this little thing. Cejsmom. Rachael. Nicole .. We've been very lucky to have such gr8 friends who never refused to help us when we really needed it.**

**also want to thank the Sparkly Red Pen teem for helping us and our gr8 Prereader Ang specially xox.**

**Finally sending our deepest condolences to Catastrophia and our Beta V for loosing their grandparents :(.**

**Disclaimer:** All the Twilight stuff belongs to Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended.

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**Prologue**

Time stands still. I swallow, and for a second, I can hear my heart pounding in my ears. My knees go weak and there's a tearing feeling in my chest, like my soul is being ripped away. It only takes that instant for my legs to move, for my body to shoot into action. My family always told me what a fast runner I am**,** and I pray to God that it will be enough today. That I will get to her before it's too late.

I won't let myself think of what will happen if it's already too late. My throat closes up and my palms start to sweat. "_No_," I tell myself**. **I will not think about that. I _will _get to her. I _will _save her.

As I get closer to my destination, I frantically search for her. I can see flames and ruins everywhere I look, and hear shouting and screaming, but it isn't her voice that echoes in my ears. The chaos around me fades into the background. It's like my body is attuned to her voice and her face. I will not stop until I find her. I cannot. There is a drive within me that I can't explain, but it propels me forward on its own volition.

I'm searching every face and in every corner. I run faster and keep chanting in my head**,** "She's not hurt, she's not hurt".

My eyes burn, but I can't let myself cry. I need to find her first. I have never felt more powerless in my whole life. No matter how fast I run, no matter where I search, I still can't find her. I'm afraid every second I'm wasting is a second she might not have, and a second that is the fine line between her life and death, so I push myself harder. Finally, I reach the building where I know her organization is located. I freeze as I see the torn**-**apart building from up close and the flames slowly dying in three floors; results of the violent explosions that rocked the area a short time ago. I know, just looking up from the street, that there can be no survivors in that building.

Desperation seeps through me as I run up the stairs and relentlessly scour each floor. My movements become jerky as I search hysterically for her in the remains around me. My hands are shaking and I'm afraid I'm going to have a panic attack as my breathing becomes frantic. I'm petrified that if I pass out, I won't be able to save her. My tears fall freely now. I have nothing if she's gone. There is no point to this life without her. I didn't even tell her that I love her, and will never love anyone else as long as I live. I wrap my arms around my middle, trying to hold myself together as gut wrenching sobs break through me, and I scream for her…

"BELLA!"

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**ummmm .. so what do you think ?  
****plz leave us some love  
xox**

**Boo & Reem ;)**


	2. Chapter 1 The journey begins

**Hey everyone, it's us again, lol. Sorry for the wait. we just had some Beta-ing problems. Thank you SO freaking much Mid Night-Cougar for helping us out, as the little green things in Toy Story say "You have saved our lives, we're eternally grateful" ;) 3**

**Also wanted to say that we were overwhelmed with the love and excitement for the prologue, we really hope we don't disappoint you guys. Seriously thank you so much ****for your support, we were squealing with every review, alert, favorite... Etc**

**Now this is a Message from Reem and I will keep it exactly as it is and hope it shows you guys how special this story is to us.**

**As you read in the summary, this story is set in Iraq during 2004 and we want to make it as real as possible, some of the events in this story are real and some of the characters too. I (Reem) know those people and lived through some of these events, so this will be a new, different ride, filled with love, pain, tears and smiles, so please, open your heart and join us …**  
**Before you start with chapter one, please take a minute and think about every Iraqi human being who has suffered in the past 9 years and still is.…**  
**song for the fic :**

** www . youtube watch?v=W86jlvrG54o (remove spaces)**

**Reem**

**Also this is the one and only warning for this story**

**This story will deal with a very sensitive topic (The war and the fragile relationship between the American and the Iraqi people) so if it's not the thing for you, I'm sorry but this will be your last warning.**

**Boo**

**Enjoy**

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Chapter one

(The journey begins)

_**Jordan national airspace,**_

_**May 2004**_

I roll my shoulders, trying to stretch in the cramped airplane seat. I sigh and check my watch, thinking we should have landed in Amman already. I'm still thankful the agency was able to find me a direct flight to Amman, seeing as they are few and far between. I'm dead on my feet and can't imagine having to stop anywhere in the middle of this ten-hour flight. On cue, as if the pilot had heard my thoughts, I see the seatbelt sign blinking, and hear the flight attendant's soft voice.

"_Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Queen Alia International Airport. Local time is ten forty-five pm, and the temperature is twenty-six degrees Celsius, seventy-nine degrees Fahrenheit. For your safety and comfort…" _

I tune her out, fasten my seatbelt, and ready myself for landing.

"…_on__ behalf of US Airways and the entire crew, I'd like to thank you for joining us on this trip, and we are looking forward to seeing you on board again in the near future. Have a nice evening!"_

Fucking finally.

~~~~(((*TWWM*)))~~~~

Walking with my carry-on bag, I look through the faces waiting in the airport and find nothing. Continuing on a little more, I see a veiled girl, who looks barely eighteen, holding a sign that says, **"Dr. EDWARD CULLEN"**,and she's searching the faces coming out of the walkway. I go straight to her and wonder why the agency is using teens in Amman. Only when I'm standing right in front of her does she notice me, and a smile breaks across her face. On closer inspection, she doesn't look eighteen, but maybe early to mid-twenties tops. Her dark beauty is not hidden by her face being veiled, and I admire her soft, glowing complexion. My appraisal of her is interrupted, though, when I realize she's extending her hand to shake mine.

"Hello, Dr Cullen. Welcome to Amman. I'm Zena Ammar, one of the doctors in our team. We've been waiting for you for some time now." Her warm smile sets me at ease in this unfamiliar country.

"Hello Zena, and please call me Edward. And yes, it seems the flight took longer than it was supposed to."

"Well you're here now, and that's what matters. Let's go join the others," she tells me with a smile.

"Very well. Are we taking the helicopter from this airport?" I ask while walking with her.

"No, we need to drive for about twenty minutes to where the helicopter is waiting."

I notice her British accent and can't help my curiosity. "Have you been staying in Amman, or did you also fly in from somewhere?"

"I flew here from London this morning. I'm Iraqi, but was born and raised in London. Both my parents are still there."

"Oh, that's interesting." I really want to keep talking to her, but we've already reached two men whom I assume have been waiting for us.

Zena introduces the men as Dr. Tony Clarks from South Africa, who also arrived today, and Dr. Mahmoud Sadek, an Egyptian who's been waiting for our arrival for two days. I listen as Mahmoud tells me that it's not his first visit to Jordan, so he had fun exploring and sight seeing until the three of us arrived.

It takes us almost two hours for me to collect my bags, them to gather all their belongings, and then make the twenty minute drive to the next airport for our final flight or helicopter ride to Baghdad.

~~~~(((*TWWM*)))~~~~

I sit with the huge headphones covering my ears, with the light off, and my new colleagues snoozing behind me. Looking out the window, I can only see the darkness. I pat my pocket feeling Alice's letter and smile as I remember her face when she pushed it in my face in the car. I know I'll cherish it and that it will keep me company during those long six months. I take it out and with the small flashlight I like to keep in my pocket, I open it and start to read.

_**Dear Edward,**_

I smile at her words. God, I'm going to miss her. I take a deep breath, and continue reading.

_**I know that you might not have internet connection once you arrive in Baghdad, so I thought writing a letter would be better. It has always been our thing, every time one of us went away. Will you be able to send me letters from Baghdad? I forgot to ask you about that yesterday, but then again, I barely talked to you all night. It was one hell of a party though, wasn't it?**_

_Yes it was_,I think to myself. I didn't expect any less from my sister Alice. As soon as she told me she was throwing me a party, I knew it would be loud, there would be dancing, and a lot of drinking. I was right, and we had a hell of a fun time. It was a great send-off, but also difficult to say goodbye to my friends and family.

_My parents left early, but not before they found me, and took me to the hallway. My father hugged me, and told me to be careful, and that he was proud of me. My mom clung to my shirt and cried. She knew there was no point in asking but she did it anyway. _

"_Do you really have to go? Is there no way anyone else can take your place?" Esme desperately pleaded. _

"_No, Mom. You know I have to go. It's what I want," I replied rubbing her back soothingly. _

"_But it's so dangerous, Edward. It's a war zone. You can change the world anywhere. You're a wonderful doctor. You can do good anywhere you choose," she insisted._

"_This is my first mission with the **MSF** Mom, and it won't be my last. Again, I don't get to choose where I'm going." I sighed. I couldn't go through this again with my mom, not now._

_She continued, "But that country's at war with the United States. Why couldn't they find some country suffering from hunger, disease or whatever? Somewhere you can help the children, and not make me worry each night for your safety. You will not be welcomed there, and that will be the least of your problems." _

"_Esme!" my father interfered and stared at her. "It's too late for that, don't you think? Right now, you're really not helping Edward. We're supposed to be supporting him, not berating his life decisions." _

_I knew that was my father's way to remind her of how similar conversations between us had ended. He knew she wouldn't want me to go on this mission with things stressed between us. He wanted me to go on this mission knowing how proud and supportive my family was of me; he knew how important it was for my mindset. _

_She relented, getting the message. "You're right. I'm sorry."_

_She wrapped her arms around me again and sniffled. "You take care of yourself, baby, and please find a way to contact us from time to time to let us know you are safe. I don't care if it's through pigeons, but I need to know that you're okay in that place."_

_I held her tight. I could never stay mad at her for long, and I know how protective she is of her children. I smiled as I remembered the time I told her that I wanted to join the MSF, and her reaction. "Sure, Mom, I'll do my best. I promise."_

_**Speaking of barely seeing you, don't think I didn't see you sneak in your room with Bree. I couldn't even say good bye, Edward! What's up with THAT? Are you thinking of maybe starting something with her? How dumb of me to think that! Of course not, you're going to Baghdad for six months. Of course you're not starting anything with her… right?**_

I chuckle both at my sister freaking out about me seeking a relationship with Bree, and the actual idea of having a relationship with Bree. Not that she's a bad person or anything; she's smart, beautiful, and the sex… God, the sex…

Images rush to my mind, making me have to stifle a groan. Her toned, tan body as she rode me and her wet warm pussy as I took her from behind. I was glad Bree liked it rough so I didn't need to hold back. Since I kept thinking about the six months I would spend on this job with nothing to satisfy my needs or desires, I didn't stop until the very early hours of the morning, until both of us were sated, and she was - in her own words - "a puddle of goo". It was like I wanted to savor what a woman's body felt and tasted like, afraid I would forget and miss it. Then, I got up, dressed and left her to sleep.

I shake my head to clear it from all the vivid images and sigh. Nope, no relationship with Bree. I'm not yet at that stage in my life where I want a relationship with anyone. I have bigger dreams; I want to leave a mark in the world. I'm not afraid of commitment or anything, I just believe that everything has its perfect timing. It's just better when it's planned. I don't understand what Alice's problem is with Bree, though, because she never liked her, and this wasn't the first time I had hooked up with her.

_**Anyway, I also wanted to tell you that Emmett called. He really wanted to come to the party, but you know how things are with him and Mom. He says he's really sorry, and that he will miss you, and he's hoping you'll be able to send him letters or emails, too. I really think you should, Edward. I don't like the idea of him all alone like this. He needs his family, and we shouldn't take sides; he's our brother. We shouldn't treat him differently because of what happened. He needs us. **_

I roll my eyes and sigh. My so-called brother could have called me instead of calling our sister; it's me who's leaving the country, not Alice. And Emmett shouldn't feel alone, he lives only twenty minutes from our parent's place. _I'm_ the one who's traveling to a war zone, _and_ who will need his family.

I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose. I know that's not fair. This is what I chose for my life. The problems between Emmett and my mother are far more complicated than that. I sigh again, remembering all the arguing and screaming. My mom's frantic phone calls saying she lost her eldest son and that he doesn't love her anymore. I cannot believe all this drama in my life is over a beautiful thirty- one year old blonde named Rosalie.

I remember the day Emmett introduced Rosalie to the family. My mom was so charmed by Rose. She was stunning, successful, smart, and from a good family. She was so sweet that the whole family fell for her, until one day Emmett showed up at our parent's place, devastated because he found out she cheated on him after a two-year relationship. My mom and Alice had to pick up what was left of him. So it was shocking, especially to my mom, when four months later, he took her back with open arms. Mom said he's being manipulated and stupid, while Emmett said he's just following his heart.

I cringe as I remember the confrontations and the yelling which ended with Emmett stepping back from family dinners, or in my mom's book, "choosing Rosalie over his own family".

I won't let myself dwell on that topic, though. It won't get me anywhere thinking about this, anyway. Plus, I have more important stuff to think about and look forward to.

This is my first mission with the **MSF**, Médecins Sans Frontières, or Doctors Without Borders organization, and I hope my time in Baghdad will be successful; I want to make a difference. This is my dream. My purpose in life. To save lives, and put smiles on the faces that forgot how to smile.

_**Oh, yeah, in case you're wondering, I am still the same, nothing new with me. School is starting soon, which is nothing to really look forward to, but at least since it's my last year, I won't suffer for long. Life is still pretty boring. Jazz is busy. He's always busy with work these days. Before when he was not, he would say he didn't want to keep me from my studies. And THEN when I finished the semester, I thought things would be better, but they're not. It's just not how it used to be. I'm just not sure what could be wrong.**_

_**It feels like we've been drifting apart these past few months, and I seriously don't know why. I know that he loves me, and God knows how much I love him, but I guess stuff like this is bound to happen after years of being together. Maybe I should do something to spark our love life again, don't you think?**_

I make a face; I do _not_ want to think about my sister with that guy, Jasper. He seems like a decent guy, and has been committed to Alice for over four years, but I still can't help feeling that she is just too good for him. Maybe it's an older brother thing; I've always felt protective of Alice, ever since we were little. I've always felt compelled to look after her. She was always too kind, too compassionate, and very beautiful with her long light brown hair and green eyes. Her looks and personality always attracted the wrong kind of guys in my opinion, especially when we were both in school.

I remember when I was in college, whenever I went home on a holiday, I would find Alice with a new haircut, new wardrobe, and a new boyfriend. I know she is not twelve anymore, and she can take care of herself, but I can't help it. I also can't say that I wasn't shocked when she brought home Jasper four years ago. Jasper didn't seem like Alice's type. I mean, come on, Alice with an _accountant_? Really? But he proved to know how to keep her grounded. This is the longest Alice has been in a relationship, and I hope their problems aren't serious. I know my sister would be more than devastated if things ended for any reason between them.

_**I've always hoped you two could be friends, but I guess it's hard with how busy you are all the time, and because you will travel a lot now, too.**_

"Ha, yeah right. Friends. NOT happening," I scoff out loud in the plane, which earns me a strange look from the pilot. I smile in apology to the guy and continue reading.

_**I hope you have a safe landing, and please try to call me, or Dad, or anyone once you can. Oh, and call Mom, you know how worried she'll be. I will miss you so much. Please take care. I hope you get everything you want out of this mission, Edward. I have a feeling this mission will be different, REALLY different, and that it will be good for you. Of course, I didn't tell Mom that, lol.**_

_**Well, I have a brother to pick up in the morning and drive to the airport. A brother who better NOT have a girl named Bree in his bed when I get there, so I need to get some sleep now.**_

_**I'm proud of you.**_

_**Love,**_

_**Alice**_

I smile as I finish the letter, fold it, and put it back in my pocket. I don't feel that this mission will be different. Challenging, yes. Extremely difficult and dangerous, definitely. But my job is still the same. I am a doctor, first and foremost. Of course every mission has to be different in its own way, with regard to the diverse circumstances and events surrounding it, so maybe that's what Alice meant? Yeah, it has to be.

My sister's letter is what I needed to relax and close my eyes, but as soon as I do, I hear the pilot saying that we'll be landing soon.

I open my eyes when I hear Zena's soft voice. "Guys, hold my hand. Let's pray for God's blessing and for safety in this journey together, so we can achieve what we came here for. To help those in need."

I take her hand and give it a little squeeze, while Tony takes my other hand. I look at them all, and pray for a peaceful and safe mission.

~~~~(((*TWWM*)))~~~~

As I take the first steps onto Iraqi ground, I inhale a deep breath, filling my lungs as if to prepare myself for the six months ahead of me.

"And the journey begins," I say out loud. Indeed, it does.

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**So what do you think ?**

**Sorry there was no Bella in this but who thought the cute eighteen year-old veiled girl was gonna be Bella ?**

**please keep us squealing ;) :D**


	3. Chapter 2 So Bright

**Hello, it's us again. Hoping to distract you from all the drama on fb, twitter, tumbler and everywhere else.**

**We're so happy with all the reviews we received, you guys are so sweet, and they really do make our day. We only ask that you plz sign in so we can reply to you :)**

**Now I want to thank our prereaders Mayar, Katrina, Ang and LOOK LOOK... MID NIGHT-COUGAR HAS JOINED TO BE OUR PREREADER.. how awesome is that? we are SOO happy :):)**

**Special thanks to Cejsmom who took us in and became our new Beta .. WE LOVE YOUUU :)**

**Oh and just so you know, our name isn't supposed to be just a combination of our first names, it's supposed to sound close to "RAINBOW".. rainbow=reemnboo .. coz we're supposed to bring you rainbow and happiness with our updates (LOLLL I'm silly, sorry, get used to it)**

**Okay, okay, I'll shut up now. Here it is.**

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Chapter two

(So Bright)

_Baghdad, Iraq_

_May 9th 2004_

The streets are dark, the only light is coming from the headlights of our car, but I can see in the side mirrors, two military vehicles following us. I'm not stupid so I don't ask why; I know it's for our security.

Damn, I'm exhausted, my whole body aches from lack of sleep and hours travelling in confined spaces. I need to sleep, but I can't close my eyes due to all the activity that is going on around us outside our vehicle, and the many thoughts running through my head. Not to mention that I stink and need a shower so bad because of this fucking heat. I'm really happy I thought to wear this light t-shirt. I'm never gonna survive this weather, it's making me miss Chicago and it hasn't even been an hour since I arrived.

The engine of the car is running smoothly, the low hum almost hypnotic; the only other sounds are from the low volume of the radio and Tony's light snores next to me. Just when I try to close my eyes, the driver slows the car. Huffing, I know the universe is against me and I will not get my two seconds of rest. Instead I look around and then hear the driver talk to the man beside him - the translator Hassan- in Arabic.

"What's wrong?" I ask in a hushed tone.

Hassan turns to me saying, "There's a military unit two-hundred meters ahead. See that red sign?" I nod. "We need to stop."

Sure enough, I can see the red words that say "STOP, MILITARY UNIT." I then see the two Hummers about a hundred feet ahead of us. The driver slows the car to a stop and we see a few marines down the road, one of them asks for our IDs and where we're going. He looks inside the car and after a ten-minute stop, we're back on the road. Soon enough I can see a sign that says "TO THE GREEN ZONE."

I feel the urge to explore the city, as this is my first time to this part of the planet, but I know better. Keeping in mind this is a war zone and the streets are too dangerous, what with the army, militias, gangs, and terrorists that are everywhere, it's obvious that a tour in town is out of the question. I know all this from the emails Peter sent me and from the extensive research I did when I found out my placement. As I look out the window, I watch the trees pass by and find the remains of exploded cars that have caused this awful smell which pollutes the view, as well as it does the air. There are houses visible on the right side of the road but everything lies in darkness.

Mahmoud tells me, "Electricity in Baghdad is a myth, but luckily for us, we don't have to worry, the green zone is like heaven in the middle of hell."

"Really, why is that?" I ask, intrigued.

Hassan turns to me again. "It's the safest area in Baghdad and it's equipped with anything you might need, such as; security, electricity, water, and food. It might not sound like much to you, but the Iraqi citizens can only dream of these simple amenities."

I don't have anything to say to that.

As we get closer to our destination, I start to hear, in the distance, angry gunshots. I look around trying to locate the source of the sounds but all I find is darkness.

"That's pretty normal here," Hassan says in a strong voice.

I just look at him "What is?"

Hassan's smile doesn't reach his eyes. "The gunshots, the explosions and the suicide missions. They're like an every day occurrence. You will learn to get used to them."

I just stare at him trying to analyze the meaning of his words and the sad yet strong emotion all over his face. I just nod and wonder what this country would've looked like if this war had never happened.

~~~~(((*TWWM*)))~~~~

Once we arrive at the hotel, I take the key to my room, which is on the third floor, room no. 317, and make my way there. I open the door, looking around my home for the next six months. I can see a small bed, a closet, a small coffee table with a small television on it. The bathroom is big, compared to the room, and complete with a shower. It's nothing like the five and seven star hotels I'm used to, but it's clean, and that's what matters. I rush to the most important section of the room at that moment. I'm in a hurry to get out of my clothes, and as I stand under the warm shower spray, I brace my hands against the wall and take a deep breath, just enjoying the water hitting my body.

It's great to feel human again after my shower. I only put on my pajama bottoms because I still need time to get used to the heat. I check the clock and find it's two fifteen am. As I calculate the time difference in my head, I realize it's six fifteen pm in Chicago, so it's fine to try to contact my father.

I hear a message in what I assume is Arabic followed by,

"The number you are calling is outside of service range."

I try two more times, and get the same message. I'm too tired to turn on my laptop to connect to the internet, so giving up I lie down on the bed on top of the covers, close my eyes, only to open them back up again and sigh. Finally, when I have nothing to interrupt me from closing my eyes and relaxing, I can't. I feel it in my stomach and my limbs. I'm nervous. I'm also worried and excited at the same time, but my nerves are dominating how I feel and I start doubting myself. Am I good enough for this?

Hassan's words rush to my head, and I wonder what kind of person I'll become, when I'm used to gun shots and suicide missions. With a deep sigh, I roll on my right side, close my eyes, clearing my head from all thoughts and surrender to sleep.

After what feels like five minutes, I open my eyes to the alarm clock that reads seven am. I get out of bed with a loud groan and head to the bathroom. As I'm getting up, I grab my phone, and dial my father's number again. I know it's midnight in Chicago, but I try anyway.

"The number you are calling is outside of service range."

I try two more times, but I get the same answer every time. Same message when I try to call Alice or my mom, flustered, I growl and give up again. With a groan, I throw my cell on the side table.

"Useless piece of shit," I mutter to the stupid phone as it lies there like the dead, mocking me. I know they're gonna be worried, especially Mom.

I look around my bags for my laptop and pull it out, plug in the telephone cable, and use the dial up connection to log on. After what seems like forever, I'm connected. I send off two quick emails, one each to my father and sister, letting them know I have arrived safely. I also inform them I've been unable to establish a telephone connection yet, and that's why I'm contacting them by email. Just as I'm finishing and about to turn off the computer, there's a loud knock on the door.

"Coming!" I yell and when I open the door, I'm met with a beautiful, chesty blonde.

"You must be Dr. Cullen," the girl says with a smile.

"I am," I confirm.

My eyes can't help but drop to her impressive chest for a second but they behave and return to her face without her noticing. Hopefully.

"And you are?" I raise my eyebrows but say it with a smile. My spirits are lifting; there are sexy women here after all.

"I'm Nickola; you can call me Nick….. um... I'm from the UK." She pauses for a second then continues, "I'm a nurse. Everyone's meeting in the restaurant on the top floor, there's a welcome party for the new team, well sort of, it's more of a gathering, really or a breakfast meeting." She takes a deep breath at the end.

"Well, nice to meet you Nick and you can call me Edward." l grin and give her a wink.

She blushes almost immediately looking briefly at my bare chest. I know the kind of effect I have on women. Everyone in my family, and my friends, have teased me about it before.

"I would love to meet the rest of the team. Just let me get dressed, and I'll meet up with you all."

"Ok then, I will see you there?"

I try not to laugh at how nervous she seems.

"Sure, just give me ten minutes and I'll be there." I smile warmly at her.

"Great. See you in ten." She blinks and then leaves. I close the door with a chuckle. Seems like I'm going to have some fun in Iraq after all.

After dressing for the day in dark jeans and a black t-shirt, I close the door of my room to find Nick waiting for me in the hallway. I bite the inside of my cheek to hold the laughter in.

We take the elevator to the top floor. There are a few people with us, two I already know are from the Iraqi staff. I greet them with a smile, and decide I will need to start learning a few Arabic words, to help me get around.

Entering the restaurant, I see the team, my friend Peter rushes to hug me.

"Hey man, welcome to Baghdad. I'm sorry I wasn't part of the group waiting to welcome you."

"Oh, it's fine, don't worry. I had better company anyway." I turn and smile at Zena and Tony who came to greet me as well.

"Oh, is that how it is?" Peter laughs.

"Yep."

"Well that's okay, I'm just happy to finally have you on the team, buddy."

I smile. Peter is the reason I'm on this mission. We've been friends since med school, but he joined the **MSF** three years ago, and it was hard to keep in touch with him. Luckily our friendship has weathered the years.

I can't deny that without him, I wouldn't have joined the Doctors Without Borders organization. Also, I may have misled my mom when I said that we don't choose our missions. We don't. But I did ask for this mission specifically, and was lucky to have Peter's help to get it.

Looking around the group, I pick out Dr. Garret without having met him before. He is a great doctor and his reputation precedes him. He's known for working mainly in third-world countries and has been with the organization for twenty years now. He's the leader of our team.

I introduce myself to many people; Salma a nurse from Lebanon, and Ahmed and Tariq who are Iraqi doctors. Tariq walks away right after I say hello, I don't think he likes me that much. I meet Mahmoud, the anesthetist, from Egypt again. Everyone seems enthusiastic and welcoming, except Tariq who seems sort of closed off, in my opinion.

The welcome party soon turns into a work meeting; we start discussing a few cases before we leave for the hospital.

~~~~(((*TWWM*)))~~~~

It's a short drive to the hospital from the hotel. The hospital is also in The Green Zone, and as we drive the few blocks, I check out my surroundings. From what I have seen so far, I can hardly believe this country suffered from war last year and is still dealing with it. It's like the weather is the only irritating thing in the area. Palm trees stand tall on both sides of the road. The streets are clean, and the traffic is very light. The buildings are beautiful and grand, they make me wonder who lives in them if most of the Iraqi people are only dreaming of electricity and food, like Hassan said. The distant sounds of guns shooting are non-stop. I notice a small group of people walking, and I can see the guns they're hiding in their waistbands. There are a few cars with tinted windows, but the odd thing to me is the big **SUV Motorcade** cars. I make a mental note to ask about them later.

Ahmed takes me on rounds and helps me get familiar with the hospital and with some needed translation for when I deal with the patients and their families.

"We're kind of short on translators at the moment, but I've heard we're getting more to help you guys in the next couple of days."

"Cool, thanks for this though."

"No problem." Ahmed smiles and we continue on our way.

Being an American, I'm kind of nervous about dealing with the Iraqi staff. Zena is still very friendly, but that could be due to the fact that she wasn't raised here. Ahmed is very nice too, but I'm more nervous because of the conservative, hesitant looks from most of the nurses. Although, when work gets hectic, it's difficult to tell who's from where, and everyone works professionally and efficiently.

Tariq still avoids me like the plague, but Zaid, the receptionist, makes up for it by being extra friendly, I like him.

Time flies, and soon enough it's one pm, and Peter drags me to have some lunch in the staff lounge.

"The busty blonde is checking you out," Peter says in a sing-song voice.

I turn and catch Nick starring. I wink at her, then go back to my food, missing her blush, and smirking to myself.

"She's nice," I say smoothly.

"Nice?"

"Great rack." I grin.

"There you go. I bet you fifty you'll be fucking her before this weekend."

I laugh. "Shut up, you're just jealous."

"Of course, I'm jealous." Peter laughs too. "Only you could get laid in this place."

"No one is getting laid any time soon. I can promise you that."

"Yeah? We'll see. You know it was the same in school. When we were all searching for somewhere to crash for an hour or two between classes, exams or shifts, you were in some closet or storage room _**entertaining **_the females."

"How do you even know that it was me?"

Peter rolls his eyes "Oh, please. I will not even reply to that Edward, just do not insult my intelligence by implying that it wasn't."

I flip him off under the table. I know Peter is just teasing. I can't deny that it's not in my nature to... resist temptation, but right now, and after being here for less than a day, getting laid is the furthest thing from my mind. I expected the cases to be heartbreaking and nothing like I had ever seen before, but the reality has been far worse than my expectations.

I'm standing with Tony after lunch, who is telling me about his time with the organization in Somalia, when Dr. Garret comes over and hands each one of us a file.

"Those two children are going to be here today for tests." He addresses Tony, "Ali is 10 years old. There was a bombing near his school last year and he has shrapnel embedded in the right side of his head. He was transferred to Amman for surgery, and although the doctors tried to remove it, they weren't able to, as most of it is located near an artery. They were afraid to take the risk involved with such delicate surgery, and that has resulted in a case of _Acute Aphasia* _and _Hemiplegia*_on the left side of his body."

Then he turns to me.

"The second case is Sama. She's 12 years old, and aside from a _Septal Defect_* her test results are a bit of a mystery. On paper, everything seems to be okay, however, she seems to have a growth disorder. Also, she lost her hair after her fifth birthday and is getting weaker and weaker every day. I'm assigning you both to these cases. See what you can do for these children."

~~~~(((*TWWM*)))~~~~

Ahmed finds me when I'm looking out the hospital window, to watch the sun set.

"It is so bright here," I observe.

"It's always like that, you'll get used to it." I turn around to see him nodding his head. I can't help but notice the presence that he exudes for someone of his stature. He's quite shorter than me with dark skin and dark expressive eyes. I smile at him and go back to my window.

"Yeah, I'm sure I will." Even to my ears, my voice sounds far away. I'm thinking about the girl, Sama. She's the sweetest thing with the brightest smile. How's it possible that she's been treated for years and yet they haven't' been able to confirm a diagnosis? I'd seen many children suffer from growth disorders, but I wasn't certain that was Sama's problem. I shake my head a little to clear it and turn to give the young Iraqi doctor my attention.

"What's it like where you came from?" He inquires.

"I'm from Chicago and it's much, MUCH colder there at this time of the year," I fondly say about my hometown. I'm not at all a fan of the heat. I change the subject and ask Ahmed, "Is this your first mission with the MSF?"

"Yes, and I know it's yours too. I chose to work here first, you know. It's like I owe it to my country," he says with light in his eyes.

"Actually, I chose to work here too."

"Really? That's… strange."

"Why? Because I'm American?"

"I don't know, I guess," he replies with honesty.

"Well, I've been getting emails from Peter ever since he got here; we've been friends since college. With the way he described things here, the cases, the chaos and the very limited resources, besides telling me that so many of the Iraqi doctors left the country almost immediately after the war started…."

"And the ones who stayed were either kidnapped or murdered," Ahmed interrupts.

"Exactly. So there you go." I shrug and wave with my hands to myself, and then try to divert the attention away, "You're very brave for staying," I say and mean it.

Ahmed's laugh surprises me.

"You think _I'm_ brave? You're from the finer half of the world and yet, you left it. I'm sure you could have found a good job that pays well, a big house in a great neighborhood and could be safe and happy, surrounded by your family and friends, and yet you're here."

Ahmed takes a deep breath and continues, "You can't blame me for wanting all those great things for myself and my family too, but I need to make a difference too. Like I said before, I owe it to my country."

I feel that Ahmed and I will be good friends. I already admire him for what he's doing. When I think about it, I feel that all my colleagues seem admirable and very passionate, and from what I've heard, they're great doctors too. It's a good team.

At the end of the day, I go 'home' to my hotel room. My head is filled with the different cases and several new faces, all swimming behind my closed lids. The new friendships I've made give me hope that my time here won't be so bad after all.

~~~~(((*TWWM*)))~~~~

_Acute Aphasia* _(loosing the ability to speak)

_Hemiplegia* _(total paralysis on one side of the body)

_Septal Defect* (_hole in the heart)

* * *

**Ok, what do you think ? **

**Sorry again there was no Bella, but that will change VERY soon, we promise.**

**How do you think E and B will meet? **

**We're on FB if you'd like to join us btw, Boo Iwmec and Reem Ooe are our names and go see the banner I made for the story on my account, there's also a link to it in our profile. :)**

**love, **

**Boo & Reem ;)**


	4. Chapter 3 The Veiled Beauty

**Hello everyone, I'm so glad we could stick to our weekly schedule and as promised, you get to see Bella for the first time... YAAAYYYYY**

**Thanks to our whole team; Deb, Mayar, Katrina, Ang and our Beta Colleen ... we love you girls so very very much**

**Disclaimer: We really wish we owned Edward and man I wish I had my own Carlisle.. we don't .. but MSFward and Iraqella are ours ;)**

**Enjoy :)**

* * *

Chapter 3

(The Veiled Beauty)

_Baghdad, Iraq_

_May 23rd 2004_

After two weeks of staying in Baghdad, I have somehow adapted to a routine. I wake up at 7am every morning, shower and dress for the day in the lightest clothes possible, and then leave my room to meet Peter for breakfast. Some days Ahmed or Tony join us; Tony more so, since he's staying in the same hotel and Ahmed is staying with his parents. Sometimes both of them join us, which is great since I really enjoy their company.

I was shocked to learn that in Iraqi families, kids don't move out of the family home as soon as they can. That concept is unacceptable for them. They live with their parents, whether they are male or female, until they get married and have a family of their own, and that's the only reason to move out. I was told it's the same way almost everywhere in the Middle East.

Ahmed also surprised me when he told me his age and that he'd just graduated from med school a couple of months ago, as he seems very mature for his age. He joined the MSF fresh out of college despite his parents' disapproval. Not only is being an Iraqi doctor dangerous, but in the Iraqi society, associating with foreigners, especially the Americans, is even more dangerous and comparable to a social taboo.

While Ahmed is serious, Tony is hilarious. He's the kind of person who lights up everywhere he is. We could be sitting and discussing some very heartbreaking cases, or talking about the war and politics, and while some disagreements flare and sometimes tension fills the room, Tony's the one who best defuses the situation and makes everyone laugh.

After breakfast, depending on the weather, we walk or drive to the hospital together. – change into our scrubs or white coats, and begin our rounds and take in new cases.

To say I am overwhelmed with work would be a huge ass understatement. It never ends. But I expected that, which makes it somewhat easier. I was always a hard worker, and it was easy to lose myself in my work. I get that from my father.

Dr. Carlisle Cullen is a very well known doctor in Chicago. I can't deny that my father is the main reason I became a doctor. I have always admired him and looked up to him. Of course, after I got over the initial resentment for not being there for my games and plays, we grew closer than ever.

When we're not swamped with cases - which isn't often - the team tries to gather for lunch as much as we can, apart from Tariq who's always sitting with the Iraqi staff. It is nice to get to know them all; Nickola is very sweet, Zena is a delight to talk to and Mahmoud is very friendly and well-spoken. We catch glimpses of Dr. Garrett every now and then, but not much. Although what we're seeing proves that he's such a wonderful person, not just a doctor. He dedicates twenty-four hours a day to the Iraqi people and anyone in need. I'm really glad I found another person to look up to, other than my father.

Soon after lunch, I'm swamped with work again and barely blink before my shift ends.

I was surprised to find out that the weekend in Iraq was Friday and Saturday. Sunday is the beginning of the week, Peter forgot to mention that.

~~~~(((*TWWM*)))~~~~

It's the beginning of my third week in Baghdad and while I'm taking a break, drinking coffee at the hospital lobby, I hear a commotion from the entrance. When I go to check what's wrong, I'm met with the most interesting creature I have ever seen.

She's short and small, just a bit taller than five feet, tops. She has very fair skin peeking out of the veil that is loosely wrapped around her hair, with her side bangs and the beginning of her hair showing. It looks kind of different from most of the other veiled girls I've seen, like Zena, but I think it's just lovely on her. It brings some sort of mystery to her. What's even more captivating than her face, is how flushed and lovely she looks screaming in Arabic at an over six feet tall Iraqi guard with no fear at all, despite the fact that a mere huff from him could send her flying. I will be damned if that guard even thinks about hurting her though. Even if I didn't find her attractive, I wouldn't stand by, while any woman is being harmed, that's how I was raised.

I go back to checking her out. The mystery girl is wearing jeans and a long sleeved shirt which hangs down to her knees. Typical clothes of a veiled Iraqi girl, but on her it's much more alluring as they're hugging her curves perfectly. I can't help but imagine how she'd look without all those layers, I bet she'll be as flushed other places too, at least I hope so. All I can think about is this delicate face has to be attached to a similarly delicate, soft as rose petal, body.

One of the foreign guard's thoughts have obviously gone the same way as mine, because he talks in what he obviously hopes is a quiet tone to his colleague, "This is not her first time here, nor her first argument with the guards, but she's a hot little thing, isn't she. I bet she's a tiger in bed."

I cringe, because thinking something and speaking it aloud is a totally different thing.

The girl must have super hearing because she turns to that guard, "What did you just say?"

Both me and the guard freeze, she speaks fluent English. No accent, nothing. I instantly think she must have been raised in an English speaking country, like Zena.

The guard looks like a deer caught in headlights for a second.

"Yes, she speaks English. I'm sorry to ruin your fun, asshole," she growls at him.

"Now, now. Watch it young lady…."

"Oh, you want ME to watch it, now that's funny…" When she looks like she's going to say more, probably more insulting comments that will not help their situation, I step forward to interfere and try to defuse the situation.

"Guard, I think the best solution in this situation, is that you apologize to the young lady here," I say in a calm but authoritative voice.

The second she hears my voice, her eyes snap up to me and narrow dangerously. If I was fascinated before by her face and body, it is _nothing_compared to how I feel when she fixed those hazel brown eyes on me.

The fire in her eyes is mesmerizing. I am so caught in her spell and cannot look away. To me, everything disappears in the background at that moment and I just stare at what I believe to be the widest and most beautiful eyes I have ever seen, framed by the thickest, longest black eyelashes encased in thick black eyeliner that makes her eyes look even more beautiful and full of mystery. They hold such beauty, especially when they have that fire that was at the moment directed at me. The daggers she's shooting with her eyes confuse me, which makes me almost miss the guard's grumbling beside me, so I clear my throat and turn back to him.

"Well? And do not think your supervisor and Dr. Garret will not be hearing about this, because I assure you, they both will."

"My apologies, Miss," the guard grumbles quietly.

"Whatever," the veiled beauty replies, rolling her eyes.

As she moves to walk away we hear Dr. Garret's voice. "Isabella!" Dr. Garret rushes and shakes her hand.

_Isabella!_ That doesn't sound like an Arabic name, but she speaks Arabic and dresses like Iraqi girls. Her skin might be fairer than most girls I've seen in Iraq, but still, lots of them have fair skin.

"Jackleen called and said you were coming today. I'm very glad you could make it," Dr. Garrett says with an apparent French accent.

"Of course, Dr Garret, you know you can call me whenever you need any help. I'll gladly come anytime, even when it's not any of my cases involved."

She smiles warmly at him and I just stand there like an idiot, trying to pick my jaw off the floor. I can't hide my utter shock at the amazing change in her face from just two minutes ago. The scowl on her lovely face, and the fire from her eyes, are completely gone and replaced with warmth and a megawatt smile she grants Dr. Garrett, which makes her whole face light up.

I frown. Why didn't she smile at me like that when I helped her? Not that that's the reason I did it, but she didn't even say thank you. When I think about it, she looked as if she was even pissed at _me!_ How rude. My frown turns to a scowl. I need to figure out what is wrong with that girl.

And what did she mean by _her_ cases? Is she a doctor too?

I'm distracted by all those questions, so I miss seeing them both leaving while talking to each other. I go to follow them but one of the nurses calls me, my next case is in the exam room waiting.

~~~~(((*TWWM*)))~~~~

I am distracted all day with images of the veiled beauty, Isabella. Examining patients is the only time I'm not thinking about her. It baffles me, the anger she directed towards me with the way she looked at me. It's not like she's the only girl who hasn't fallen to my feet or anything, but usually when girls are that pissed at me, they have reasons.

It's almost lunch time when I'm wandering the aisles looking for signs of her and there she is, talking to Zena, like they are old time friends.

I stand there staring at her, studying her face while they talk. They look like they're in deep discussion. Zena nods her head at Isabella then takes her hand. Suddenly, Isabella turns her head and catches me staring. I lower my face to the file in my hand instantly, feeling like a child who just got caught with his hand in the cookie jar. I huff, feeling ridiculous; I seriously need to keep it cool. It's just a girl after all.

"Hey, Edward." I lift my head to look at Zena's lovely face. "I want to introduce you to someone." She ushers me over with her hand.

I swallow and go to them.

"Bella, this is Dr. Edward Cullen. He's our pediatrician. Edward, this is Isabella Salem , but we all call her Bella. She will be helping you guys with the translation for the time being but she actually works for Al-Amal charity organization."

"Hi, nice to meet you. I'm sorry about earlier." _Idiot, why are you apologizing? _Shit. I smile down at her, trying to hide the nervous mess that I am. What is wrong with me, this is not high school, I'm a grown man.

"Likewise, and it's not your fault." She doesn't even return my smile, but at least she is not glaring anymore.

"Wait, you two have met each other already? What happened earlier?" Zena is curious.

I turn to tell her the story but Isabella, or Bella, beats me to it.

"Oh it's nothing. One of the guards was being an idiot at usual," She rolls her eyes, "And Doctor Cullen here came to my rescue. I do not know what would've happened to me, if it weren't for him." She turns to me with the fakest smile ever known to mankind and the fire is back in her eyes. My stomach drops. I'd take the bored look in her eyes over this any day. Why is she acting like a bitch all of a sudden?

I'm sweating under her scrutinizing stare. I didn't do anything wrong. Why does she make me feel like I did her wrong?

Zena is oblivious to what's happening around her; she believes Isabella means what she's saying so she laughs "Oh, how nice of him then?" She smiles sweetly at me. The angel. I smile back.

"Okay Bella, you should join us for lunch. That way you will get to know the whole team."

"I'm sorry, I don't think I can. I should leave now. I need to get back to the organization. Maybe some other time?"

Zena looks disappointed**.** "Aw, okay then. But you'll be back tomorrow, right?"

"Yes, tomorrow morning." She smiles at Zena and kisses her on both cheeks while saying her good byes. She turns to me at the last second and nods her head my way and leaves.

_What the hell?_

I look after her departing form, searching my brain for what I could have possibly done to piss her off, when Zena's voice interrupts my thoughts,

"She's lovely, isn't she? She's seriously one of the sweetest people I have ever met."

I turn my head to look at her and the incredulous look on my face must have shocked her.

"What?"

"Were you not here when this conversation happened?"

She laughs, "Oh she just needs time to warm up to new people, but believe me, once she gets to know you and you her, you will see how lovely she is."

I highly doubt that, but I don't tell Zena. It seems like they are close friends and I don't want to offend her in anyway, for insulting her rude bitch of a friend.

We part ways after that. Zena asked me to join her for lunch but I lost all my appetite and the Veiled Beauty Bitch - as I call her in my head now- is still dominating my every thought.

I'm trying to think of ways to find out more information about her and every option leads to the same person.

I make my way towards said person grumbling. I'm going to regret this but I have no choice.

"Do you have a minute?"

"What do you want?"

"You've been here for the past 4 or 5 months, right?"

"Why?"

"I want to ask you about someone." I'm getting pissed at this uninterested, bored tone.

"You want to know why the tempered beauty didn't fall for you." It's a statement, not a question.

I freeze. How did he know about that?

"H .. How did.." I shake my head and only hear laughter.

"PETER." I'm fuming now.

"What? Oh this is so much fun."

"Who is she?"

"Why?"

"You better fucking answer my questions or I'm gonna kick your ass right here, this second and I'm gonna invite the nurses to watch." I'm losing every ounce of my patience.

Peter sighs and rolls his eyes at my false threats.

"Her name is Isabella and she's in her early twenties. She works with some charity organization that looks after kids who've been hurt in the war. She sometimes helps with translation when we're short on translators here, because as you see, most of the staff here don't speak Arabic"

"I knew all that already."

Peter keeps talking like he hasn't heard me. "She has a very short temper, so I didn't just come up with that nickname. It's just that this is not the first time someone pissed her off."

That still doesn't justify her hostility and anger toward me after I helped her, and I know she isn't a total bitch. I saw how nice she was to Dr. Garret and Zena.

Peter sees the bewildered look on my face and takes pity on me.

"There's more."

My eyes snap up to my friend's, "What?"

"She. Hates. Americans."

I frown. "What?"

I hear laughter and I see him walking away but I can't concentrate on anything after what he just told me. There's only one thought going through my head, _"She hates me."_

* * *

**Poor Edward :( he did nothing wrong**

**so what do u think of Bella ? why do u think she was so mad?**

**we'd really love to hear what u guys think :)**

**Love,**

**Boo and Reem xx**


	5. Chapter 4 The Veiled, Bitch Beauty

**WE MADE ITTTTTT.**

**It's still Thursday in many parts of the universe so that's what counts. We weren't gonna be able to do it this week because of lots of RL stuff, including my uncle passing away but this just proves how lucky we are to have such amazing friends... girls, like Penny used to say "I love you to the moon and back."**

**Ok just to be clear, The Green Zone really exists, security was that tight and the details you guys are seeing are all real. Edward is 27 and have some patience and you will know all you want about Bella. Don't rush into assumptions because we might surprise you after all.**

**We love all your reviews, theories and detailed analysis of each chapter and character.. yes we love them to death and no we won't get offended ;)**

**Disclaimer: The characters are SMs but everything else is ours.  
**

**Enjoy.**

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Chapter 4

(The Veiled, Bitch Beauty)

_Baghdad, Iraq_

_May 24th 2004_

I'm staring at my bedroom ceiling, when I hear the alarm clock go off. I turn it off distractedly with my hand. The events of the previous day keep playing in my head over and over again, effectively disrupting my attempt to go back to sleep.

The veiled beauty, Isabella. No. The veiled, _bitch_ beauty, Isabella. I'm still seething and pissed, but those aren't the only feelings coursing through me. Bewildered…confused…disgusted with myself for my idiocy with her, and how she turned me into a stuttering, nervous kid. Horrified that I was actually attracted and turned on by her, after her total disregard for me and her complete, unjustified, rudeness towards me.

I think about Peter's words again, _"She hates Americans."_ So that's it? That's the reason she was rude to me?

I know the war can be such a sour topic for people, and everyone has their own opinion about it, but this is ridiculous.

Could she really be that close-minded?

Could she categorize a whole nation, based on what she has seen from a few people? I'm sure the two hundred _million_ people populating the US still outweigh, by far, the few Americans in Iraq.

The fact is I was against the war from the start, never understanding how the blood of innocent lives could bring peace to anyone. Yet the actions of some would never change the fact that I love my country and believe in it. Besides, what's done is done and the war is over.

I know it's not that simple, and those angry feelings against us can be justified, but I would like to think that people like me, can change those feelings, can show the Iraqi people that good can come from us too, not just war and destruction.

Ahmed and Zena are both Iraqis and they've been understanding and very open-minded. They're both against the war too and they have very strong opinions about it, but they don't let it affect how they see me or Peter, or how they treat us. Why can't she do the same?

I need to stop thinking about this because I'm giving myself a headache. If she wants to hate us, let her fucking hate us, for all I care. It's her problem.

I. Don't. Care.

Getting off the bed with a groan, I go to the bathroom, finish my business and get ready for the day. I can feel the stress in my tense back and stiff shoulders, but there is nothing I can do to relieve it. Back home the punching bag was my best friend, here there is nothing, and I can't even go for a goddamn jog in the streets or anything. Oh please let there be a gym in this hotel, oh please, God.

~~~~(((*TWWM*)))~~~~

The walk to the hospital is uneventful. Tony and Peter chat together as I'm in no mood to talk anyone, and as soon as we arrive at the hospital, my eyes scan everywhere.

Against my will, my eyes are searching for big brown eyes in every veiled girl.

She's not here.

I don't know whether to be happy or disappointed. I think I'm a little bit of both, but she said she'd be here this morning.

My disappointment wins as the day winds down, when I don't see her at all.

~~~~(((*TWWM*)))~~~~

Early the next day, as soon as I walk into the hospital, I see her.

Today her veil is a deep red and it looks lovely against her pale skin, framing her face and making her deep mystifying eyes stand out.

Dr. Garrett – who I almost missed, standing right beside her, for how intently I'm staring at her - informs me that she will be my assigned translator for the time being. I will the teenaged kid in me to not show any excitement, because yes, as weird as it may sound after our first encounter, I am excited. I get to see her everyday from now on. Something must be wrong with me.

She, on the other hand, is anything but excited. It's obvious with the way her eyes are looking everywhere but at me. It's like she's wishing she was anywhere else but here. My excitement dies after a couple of minutes of awkward silence when Dr. Garrett leaves us.

We're making our way to start rounds when I swallow and attempt conversation, "So how long have you been working with charity organizations?"

"Long enough," she briskly states, not looking at me.

I give it another try, "Well, you seem very young. I'm assuming you did stuff like this when you were still in school."

No response.

"This is my first mission with the **MSF** too by the way, I graduated in….." I don't get to finish my ramble because she stops walking and turns to interrupt me, "Listen, I'm not here to make friends. I'm here to get a job done, so enough with the chitchat, okay?"

I feel my blood pressure rising and my nostrils flare. "Don't flatter yourself. That was not me trying to be your _friend_, that was merely an attempt at a _civilized_ conversation. Although, I'm beginning to wonder if you've ever heard of one of those before."

She rolls her eyes. "Oh really, thank you. How very…._civilized_ of you." Sarcastic should be her middle name.

"Oh, just forget it."

We work in silence the rest of the day.

The next day isn't any better.

I go to the hospital, and the sight that welcomes me first thing is a bit shocking and unsettling-Tariq and Bella laughing and chatting in the lobby. I scowl and feel this burning fire in my gut, but I ignore it, and them, and make my way across the room and say hi to Zaid, the receptionist. He cracks a lame joke and I try my hardest to ignore the couple standing to my left and smile at him, then grab some notes Dr. Garret left for me to read.

I feel her presence but don't look up from what I'm doing. It takes her a couple of minutes to say, "Are you ready to start rounds now?"

I'm not putting up with her bullshit anymore. I'm fed up, I'm in a bad mood and I let it show, "Good morning to you too." I don't need to lift my eyes to see her rolling hers at me. I continue in a bored tone with contained anger, "No, I'm not ready yet. You can go continue your _chitchat_." I sneer, throwing her word back at her, "I will find you when _I_ need you." I walk away without giving her time to form a reply.

After getting my coat on, I go back to the lobby and find her gone. That's better. I make my way to the first patient, after I tell Zaid to find her and have her meet me in the exam room.

~~~~(((*TWWM*)))~~~~

She's huffing. It's soft but I can hear it, I'm not deaf. I sigh inwardly, this is gonna be a long day.

She's professional when we get to the patients. Smiling and charming, just like with Dr. Garrett and Zena. I don't understand what she's telling them and them her, but from the looks on the patients' faces, I can tell they've been bewitched. That makes me let out a huff of my own.

Apparently, she can be charming to anyone but _me_. This thought makes me clench my jaw and feel a fire brewing inside of me.

She gives me any case information in a lifeless, uninterested voice, always while looking at the patients. Well two can play her game. Not once have I addressed her or looked at her. I can be an asshole too. If she chooses to be that immature and close-minded then I'll let her. I don't need to be friendly with her. I care only about my job, so that's what I concentrate on and ignore her presence completely.

We move from bed to bed in an efficient and speedy manner. I think my indifference is getting on her nerves because her huffs are getting louder between patients. I don't give a shit, I still do it.

It's sometime after noon, when I'm going through files of my patients, that she talks to me. "I'm going to take my lunch break now," she says in a strong voice.

I pause for a second and then raise my eyes to her slowly and give her my most uninterested, uncaring and dismissive look, then go back to the file in my hand.

"Whatever," I say in a bored voice that hopefully conveys that I _really_ want to say, _"Like I give a rat's ass what you do."_

My eyes are on the file, but I feel hers boring into my head, shooting fire and daggers at my poor, poor skull. I hold my smirk in until I hear her footsteps walking away, only then, I let it break free.

Smirking, I make my way to the cafeteria to have lunch, where I find Mahmoud who smiles at me and waves for me to join him. I gladly do.

Wandering the hospital's hallways after lunch, I'm trying to think of how to find Isabella again so we can continue our work, without me actually making the effort of looking for her. As much as I hate it, I do need her, but I won't give her the satisfaction of showing it. I need a translator, just not her specifically.

It's then I see Peter and make my way to ask him if he'd seen her, but before I reach him, she comes out of nowhere and starts talking to him.

I stop and watch. Despite how much I despise the way she talks to me, and the unreasonable hostility towards me, everything inside me screams at her to do it all to Peter too. There's a small voice in my head that didn't believe Peter; it believed she was only that hostile because of me. I don't want it to be me. I want her to hate us all, not just me. And there's also a small part of me that wants her to hate everyone else but to…like _just __me_!

But she doesn't.

She stands there calmly talking to him with no fire in eyes, no anger, nothing. And there he is, talking very comfortably to her, pointing to stuff in the file in his hand. They're nowhere near how friendly she was with Dr Garret or Zena, but she's standing there like she respects him and there's none of the same antagonistic vibe I felt coming off her. She isn't acting as if he's a nuisance or even displeased to be talking to him. Instead, she listens intently to what he says then replies and just when I'm about to reach them, they finish their conversation and I hear her soft "Thank You". Then, to top that, she cracks the smallest of all smiles and that's enough to cause the rage inside me to flare.

It _is_ me.

"If you're done wasting time for the day, I would like to continue with my work," I sneer at her and walk away missing Peter's incredulous frown and her shocked expression.

After a couple of steps, she is beside me. I see her hands shaking a little in my peripheral vision and I'm sure it's not from fright but from pure rage. It makes me smile a little inside.

It's very tense between us but I don't care. I'm pissed. I'm done. How dare she? I did nothing to deserve her indignation, and I am tired of it.

We're almost finished for the day and I don't notice that I'm pushing through the files a little forcefully until she talks, "What did the files ever do to you?"

I glare at her and say nothing.

"Hey. What's your problem?" She's glaring too.

"What's _my_ problem?" I laugh sarcastically, "What's _your _problem? You've been nothing but hostile to me ever since I met you, ever since I tried to _help_ you."

Her jaw clenches. "I'll give you an idea. Wait till someone _asks_ you for help next time. I'm not your charity work."

"Oh, is that the reason you're upset? Because I didn't ask? Or because it was me who helped? Me, the American."

She didn't expect this, her eyes widen a little and I keep talking, "Yes, I heard the rumor that everyone knows. You hate Americans and that's why you're hostile to them."

She blinks.

"I don't _hate_ Americans. That's stupid. I just…find it hard sometimes to be…like, super friendly to them." She tries to explain in a calmer voice.

I scoff, "Super friendly? You mean you have a problem not being downright rude and disrespectful." I glare at her.

"Look, this is me and I will never change. I can't hide how I feel. Everyone knows this about me."

She looks up for a second as if looking for inspiration. "We call it: What's in the heart is on the tongue. And you call it wearing your heart on your sleeve. I will never be a diplomat like my father. I will never be a two-faced politician either; I can't act like they do. I can't plaster a smile on my face when all I feel is resentment and anger for what my country has become. I'm sure you can find that understandable."

"And that's our fault? That is your problem, not mine. That is _your_ issue and _you_ need to work on it. People shouldn't be subjected to your anger and resentment. They are not obligated to endure it or tolerate it and I sure am not either."

"You most certainly _are_ when you choose to work in a country at war with your country," she scoffs at me. "Seriously, what did you expect? Flowers and medals from the Iraqi people? Surely you aren't that naïve," she continues in a condescending tone that irritates the hell out of me.

"I expect people to judge me for who I am and for what _I_ do. Not for where I come from. I expect people to respect and appreciate what my colleagues and I weren't obligated to do, but are doing anyway for their country."

She sighs and rolls her eyes. "Oh. Again with the charity work."

"Oh, just grow up already." I'm done with this conversation. I start to walk away and after a couple of steps, I turn back to her, I can't help it. "I don't really understand your problem with charity, or help, but whatever-the-fuck it is, you need to get over it. Yes, some people _help_ others and God forbid those who do, because I'm sure it's this big sin to you or something. This is ridiculous."

I take a deep breath and tell her, "It is _okay_ to accept help from someone or something. You make it sound like this awful, disrespectable idea and it's not. It's noble. I can't imagine what this world would become if we all just sat around selfishly watching each other suffer without trying to do anything about it. Would it have made you feel better if I never took this job or if no _'Americans'_ ever volunteered to help in your country?" I'm breathing hard when I finish, she really knows how to get to me, and when I look at her, she sits there very calmly observing me and she doesn't answer my question.

"What?" I growl.

"Are you done with your speech now?"

"My speech? You know what? I don't give a fuck what you think. I should've known this conversation would be useless and get us nowhere. Enjoy your evening." I've given up and start to leave but her words stop me.

"I don't have a problem with giving or receiving help."

I sigh.

"You know what I have a problem with?"

Gritting my teeth, "What?"

I watch her approach me, narrowing her eyes. "I have a problem with people who march in, acting as if they _own_ the place, thinking they're God's gift to human kind, and heroes, just because they're doing their _jobs_. Jobs they _volunteered _to do, not ones they were asked or directed to do."

"I never claimed to be a hero."

"Oh really? It doesn't matter what you say. It shows in your actions, starting with saving the damsel in distress."

"Are you listening to yourself? You're trying to…_force_ this depiction on me because I tried to _help_ you?"

"I didn't _need_ your help," she growls at me, "nor did I ask for it."

She takes a deep breath, and looks like she's trying to hold her emotions from showing. "Alright, I believe you. You're not trying to be a hero. You are here to _save us_. Thank you very much. Look around you. We are very much saved right now." Oh she's sarcastic again.

"Do you think I chose this? This war? This destruction? I'm a doctor Isabella, if you remember, my job is to save lives. Do you truly believe I approved of this war? That I'm happy about all those lives lost? Wait, did you seriously believe the American people just…cheered and hollered after they heard about this war?" I'm incredulous, how can anyone think that?

"If you were all against the war like you say, then why didn't you do something about it?" She's let go of her bored tone and is getting all worked up again.

"Yes, because I'm on my couch, enjoying TV right now, Isabella," I snap.

I try again, "We lost lives in this war too. Couples all over the US lost their partners, little kids lost their parents, sisters and brothers, aunts and uncles. This is a tragedy for us. Contrary to what you might believe, most of us wish this war never happened."

"What about our parents, sisters and brothers, aunts and uncles?" she chuckles humorlessly. The fight is lost in her now and it shocks me how much emotion is suddenly in her eyes.

I watch them fill with tears and the sight makes me swallow my tongue.

"Huh? What about entire families that died in this devastation; small children, elderly people, pregnant women? What about the kids who not only lost their parents, but their homes and every simple privilege in life, like electricity and food? If what you have is a tragedy, then what do you call this?" Her tears escape and I do nothing but stand there looking in her devastated eyes. The bare, raw pain and loss in them renders me speechless.

She walks away without another word, and I don't stop her.

The day following our argument, Isabella comes to work and avoids looking at me all day, trying to talk in as few words as possible. She's not rude and there is no anger or hostility coming off her this time.

I don't miss the hostility, but I don't like this indifference either.

We work in silence, but it's in no way a relaxed atmosphere. It's awkward, tense and just plain uncomfortable.

It's like she wants to shut me out completely, not show me any sort of emotion after her outburst the day before. She's put up her walls and is giving me this façade of an emotionless professional.

I hate it.

I want to break through those damn walls and irritating exterior, but I'm too damn tired.

Arguing with her has taken its toll on me; deprived me of my sleep and forced me into spending every free, waking moment, thinking about what happened. Thinking about her words. There has to be some personal reason behind them. Well, of course, I must be an idiot to think that a damn war in her country wouldn't affect her life personally.

She must have lost people, possibly family members or close friends. My stomach drops at the idea. I lost one of my best friends, Alec, in high school to cancer, and I spent months in a depression. I can't imagine how it would have felt if it were anyone in my family or several people at once…to a merciless war.

Huffing, I search my brain for what to do. I don't want things to be that tense between us, but I'm worried if I push her, it will make things worse. I'm not really known for holding my emotions and temper, and I know firsthand she isn't either, people call her The Tempered Beauty, for God's sake.

On more than one occasion I literally bite my tongue to refrain from talking to her. I'm constantly thinking of ways to start conversation, to stop this damn awkwardness. But I don't want to start more drama, so I let the day pass and say nothing.

The next day is a little different, but different doesn't always mean better.

"Morning," She says and I almost drop the pen I'm writing with. I raise my eyes to her and try to hide my shock, "Morning?" It came out as a question although I didn't mean for it to do so. If she noticed, she didn't show it. I'm glad.

When I look at her face, I see the same reserved, professional look she gave the day before, and it stops me again from attempting any conversation or small talk.

All day I spend stealing glances at her. Opening my mouth to talk, only to close it again, but when I do, her face mesmerizes me and I stare. After a couple of seconds, she lifts her head a little from whatever it is that she's doing, I guess she's having that feeling one gets when someone's watching. Hurriedly, I look away, never knowing if she caught me or not.

The week after that goes without incident. We work in uncomfortable silence, I watch her when I can and she keeps her distant, hollow mask on at all times. But don't get me wrong, her eyes are still the same-hypnotizing, fascinating and spellbinding, whether they hold fire, ambiguity or secrecy. They're what remind me that it _is_ a mask.

It's not the real her.

Knowing doesn't make it less irritating or bothersome. It's putting a damper on my mood day after day.

"Edward, we're hitting the cafeteria. We don't feel like going to bed too early, care to join us?" Tony asks with a kind smile; right after me, him and Peter reach the hotel.

"I'm sorry, Tony. I'm very tired; it's been a long day. I'm gonna head up to my room, you guys have fun." I don't want to sour their evening with my mood, so I leave them in the lobby, despite Peter's questioning looks; he knows something's up, but I'm in no mood to share, and make my way to my room.

Waiting for the elevator, I replay the past few days in my head. I find that I still can't get the image of Bella in tears out of my head, and confused doesn't even begin to describe how I feel. I'm overwhelmed with mixed feelings after each encounter with her and it's the reason why I'm in a foul mood.

Not even a phone call from home cheers me up, although, I'm pleasantly surprised when I see my brother's name flashing on my cell's screen. We spend a couple of minutes chatting and he tells me how this was the millionth time he tried calling me, and then tells me a little about our friend James. I miss the fucker; it's been ages since I last saw him.

The elevator dinging distracts me from my musings and I go in. Just when the doors are closing I hear a voice.

"Edward, wait. Hold the door please."

It's Nick's voice.

I hold the door for her and she gets in smiling through her tired eyes.

"Thank you. Oh my God, this day couldn't have possibly gone on any longer."

"Tell me about it," I mutter to myself.

"What?"

"I was saying yes. I'm dead on my feet too."

"Oh, I know exactly what you need. I have a couple bottles of beer in my room. I was saving them, but you're welcome to join me… If you want?" she asks with a hesitant smile.

Why can't all women be that sweet? I give her my best smile, the idea of beer is irresistible and her sweet attitude is cheering me up a little.

"Sure, I would love that. Thank you."

The brightest smile breaks on her face, like she won the lottery or something. It lifts my spirits that something very small _I_ did, made her this happy.

Making our way to her room, you could tell she's buzzing with excitement. She fumbles a little with her key, but soon enough, we're in her room.

My shocked expression must have embarrassed her because I see her blush and hear her say, "Sorry for the mess."

And what a mess indeed.

Clothes are everywhere, like on every surface of the room; bed, coffee table, dresser and of course on the ground. The bedside table is almost non-existent with the mass of papers and items covering it.

"No, it's okay. No problem." I hope my smile is reassuring and not the grimace I'm feeling.

She goes to her mini fridge and takes out two bottles of beer, hands me one and takes the other for herself.

I waste no time opening mine and taking a huge gulp. Damn, that's good.

I have to remain standing because there's no room to sit, but I lean on her dresser, trying to ignore the clutter and she comes to stand next to me.

"Thanks a lot for this." I wave my beer bottle at her. "I really, _really_ needed it."

"Yeah, I could tell. You seemed pretty tense the last couple of days."

"Was it that obvious?" I chuckle nervously. I know the reason but I hope it's not obvious how a certain veiled beauty gets under my skin. I wouldn't want anyone, especially said beauty, noticing.

"Oh, I wouldn't call it obvious, I mean, there wasn't anything specific that you did. I just…noticed." The tone of her voice brings my eyes to her face and I find her staring in my eyes.

"Lately, I just can't help…noticing you, all the time," she says in a low, whisper like voice.

"Yeah?" I'm whispering too for some reason.

"Yeah," she says while moving her body closer to mine.

The sight of her tongue licking her lips distracts me from her eyes and I lick my own before my head moves closer to hers. She closes her eyes, parts her lips and inhales deeply, readying herself for what's to come.

Right before our lips touch, an image of a certain brown eyed, veiled beauty flashes in my head.

I pause, breathe in and out, and Nick opens her eyes questioningly.

Determinedly, I close the gap between us and kiss her.

* * *

***whistles innocently***

**Let's here it .. I know you want to LOL**

**Boo and Reem xox**


	6. Chapter 5 The Pull

**Wow, feels like it's been ages.**

**Hello everyone, yes it's us again, we haven't abandoned you. Those previous weeks were just weird and very rough.**

**Sorry it took this long, it all started when our Reem went through this horrible accident that resulted in a broken leg and loosing a family member :( so plz keep them both in your prayers or thoughts, **

**then as lots of you know the twi meeting in London was a couple of weeks ago and our Beta Cejsmom was part of it *jealous* **

******I also have to tell you all that I'm starting a new job after 8 months of unemployment (YAAAAAAAAAAAYYYY) so we won't be able to keep the weekly updates :(**

**The good thing is this update is almost 2 chapters long so we're hoping to make it up to you that way ;)**

**Can't forget to Thank MC for her huge help and support through this whole thing. This woman is absolutely amazing and has done SO MUCH for us and the story and I just heart her to pieces.**

**Huge thnx to Ang our Prereader who's helped us SO MUCH, you guys really would not want to read the story without her help.**

**Double huge ass thnx to everyone who reviewed and added the story to their lists, you really do make our days and we heart you all.**

**Sorry for the long AN. lol.**

**Enjoy.**

* * *

Chapter 5

(The Pull)

_Baghdad, Iraq_

_June 4th 2004_

Her brown eyes are haunting me. I'm walking through the hospital hallways searching for them. I only catch glimpses of her red veil fluttering in the air as she disappears from my sight. Involuntarily, I go after her.

_Where is she?_

Oh, there she is. She's standing there looking all angelic, but as soon as I make the first step to go after her, a look of fright crosses her face, like she's scared I'm going to catch up with her and she hurries away.

_Is she trying to hide from me? _

As soon as she's out of my sight, I hear her laughter. It echoes in the hallways and I smile. It's enchanting. I want to make her laugh like that.

My stomach drops. Please, don't go mad when you see me, please.

_Why is she walking so fast?_

It takes a while, with only her sweet laughter guiding me, but I find her. I smile, because she obviously ran out of hallways in her attempts to avoid me.

_Oh my __God__. _

She's smiling back at me.

Is that all it takes? For me to smile at her first?

I'm walking towards her and my eyes never leave hers, I'm afraid she's gonna bolt again so I make slow, cautious steps her way. She doesn't move and I'm in a trance. I don't even give my body the order to move, but I'm there. I have finally reached her and I'm standing right in front of her, gazing at those gorgeous eyes. How is it that I've just realized there are flicks of gold and green in them?

My eyes drop to her lips, they're full and pink and perfect, and my heart swells at the sight of her shining smile. I made her smile this time. _Me_. Not Zena, Not Garrett. And it's a full, ear to ear grin too, not that half-assed thing she gave Peter.

The joy inside me is indescribable. Like I've won something so very precious.

Wait. She raises her arm.

Fuck. Is she gonna touch me?

I don't think my heart can take it, but I'm powerless and incapable of doing anything but just watch. I think I stop breathing and follow her hand with my eyes as it comes closer and closer to my upper arm.

Right when she's close enough to touch me, I take a deep breath and close my eyes, but she changes her mind and starts slapping my arm three times. My eyes open in shock. There's no pain, but I'm so fucking confused and…hurt.

My eyes snap to hers and find the smile gone and the fire back. I love the fire but I want the smile back. Please.

When I open my mouth to ask her why, she doesn't give me a chance. She slaps my chest this time and doesn't stop. I look at her hand on me and I am at loss for what to do.

I'm just noticing the sound of her hand hitting my body. It's so loud and so…weird.

Why does it sound like that?

It's like her hand is hitting…wood. What the…?

I blink a couple of times and open my eyes to darkness.

She's gone. Her hands, her smile, her eyes, all gone and God, I want them back, I want _her_ back.

Fuck. I was dreaming.

I rub my tired eyes and curse my subconscious, but I'm brought back to reality with the sound of another hand hitting wood.

Someone is knocking on the door at… –with a side glance to the alarm clock- "Shit, it's two twenty in the morning," I whine.

The knocking stops after a couple of times and I hear a faint, feminine voice, "Edward?"

Grumbling, I get up, cursing whoever it is at the door, not for waking me up at this hour, but because I know their knocking changed what could have been a very, very pleasant dream. There's a voice in my head saying, "You're an idiot." I ignore it and open the door to reveal an incredibly nervous Zena.

"Oh my God, Edward, I'm so sorry to wake you, but you're the one I trust most here and I just can't handle all this by myself and there's really nowhere to go…" she says in one sentence and doesn't even breathe through it, so I grab her by the shoulders and bring her inside.

"Hey, hey, calm down. What happened, what's wrong?" The way she looks is scaring me.

"I just need your help. I really need you to come with me, please."

"Zena, you're freaking me out right now. You need to give me something."

She takes a deep breath before explaining, "Okay, I'm sorry. I don't know what's happening to me. We see stuff like this at the hospital all the time, but she just looks horrible and she's shaking..."

"Who? And what stuff? What is going on?" I interrupt again.

"Bella called me asking for help because she can't go to the local hospitals. She says it's too dangerous."

At the sound of her name, I stop breathing and my stomach drops. She's hurt?

I swallow and will my heart to calm down and act normal. I'm a doctor, I should act like one.

"Why is it dangerous to go to the local hospital?"

"I didn't get a chance to ask her, Edward. We're running out of time here and I just left her in my room and rushed to get you."

Fuck, how bad is it? I need to hurry the fuck up. "Okay, okay. Let me just put a shirt on and grab my bag."

In two seconds, shirt, bag, done and I'm heading to the door. _Shit_. I forgot shoes.

Rushing beside Zena to her room, I don't bother to tie my sneakers. My head is filled with worst case scenarios, and I try to block them out, I don't want my panic to show.

I don't wait for Zena to open the door and I don't knock; as soon as she points to her room from the elevator, I'm running and I open the door, rushing in.

The instant I'm in the room, my eyes zero on her and my heart stops when I see blood covering her arms and shirt.

She really is hurt.

I don't think. My feet just carry me to her as I state the obvious, "Shit, you're bleeding." I grab for her arms delicately, searching for the source of the bleeding and ignoring how she tensed as soon as I touched her, I don't have time for that now, she's _hurt_. I turn her arms over and over and find nothing. Fuck, it's not just a cut on her arm then, there must be some wound in her body that's causing all this blood.

"Where does it hurt? Where's the cut on your body? We need to stop the bleeding," I ask urgently.

When my hands go to her shirt trying to press for a wound or lift it off her, her hands stop me and she shouts, "WAIT!"

My eyes snap to hers and find them as big as saucers. She must be in shock or something.

I clench my jaw, there's no time for this. I will find that damn bleeding if I have to restrain her.

"This is not the time for modesty, Isabella. We have to stop…."

"It's not mine."

I blink twice and try to make sense of her words.

One would think, after my brain registers what she said, that I'd have the simple curiosity to ask who the blood belongs to, but her staring at my eyes sucks all thought from my brain.

Hey, the green and gold flecks from my dream. They exist.

"Edward. Noor, is the one who needs your help. She's right behind Bella." Zena's words sober me up and snap me out of my daze so I'm able to regain my senses to look around the room and find Zena hunched over some male's torso, taking care of what looks like a gun-shot wound. They must have sobered Bella too, because only then, does she remember to let go of my hands, which were very close to her body. I feel these tingles go from my arms and spread through the rest of my body as soon as her hands leave mine. I stop myself from reaching back and reclaiming her hands, this is the first time I ever touched her and I don't want it to end so soon.

She turns around to show me the small figure she was shielding with her body and I move closer to inspect the small frame of a girl who looks to be in her early teens. She's covered in blood and bruises, folding herself over to look as small as possible and cradling an arm which is twisted at a weird angle, to her chest.

I move slowly as to not frighten her. She's shaking so badly, but she's not uttering a single word. No screaming or crying, no sounds of pain or suffering, whatsoever. The only sound coming off her is her loud, panicky breathing. She's wheezing and the sound brings to my attention that her lungs could be hurt.

"Hey, sweetie."

At the sound of my voice, she curls into herself even more and pushes her body closer to wall and further away from me.

"Hey, hey. It's okay. My name is Edward, and I'm a doctor. I'm not gonna hurt you, okay? I want to help you, make you feel better."

I turn to Bella and ask, "Can she understand me? Could you translate, please?"

Bella talks to her in Arabic. "I think she understood you, she went to the best schools in Baghdad."

"She only lets Bella touch her, she screamed her head off when I tried," Zena tells me from the end of the room, "We're going to move to the bathroom; the light is not enough here."

"Okay," I answer her, but don't lift my eyes off the girl in front of me.

"Noor, you have lots of cuts and bruises on your body, sweetie, and I need to examine you, to make sure it's nothing serious, so you can heal. I bet that arm hurts a lot, right?"

I move to get my bag from where I dropped it and tell Bella to try to get her to lie down on her back. When I was far enough away, Noor turns her head my way and stares at me. I move back slowly, smiling at her and listening as Bella talks to her in a soothing voice, her hand going through Noor's long black hair, trying to calm her down. The girl's wide eyes never leave mine; I don't know whether that's a good sign or bad. They widen even more when I'm right there, close enough to touch her.

"I won't hurt you, I promise," I tell her in my lowest, calming, doctor voice.

I check her body again and find several cuts that all seem to be superficial. There's only one on her leg that someone seemed to have rolled a piece of cloth on it to stop the bleeding.

"Sweetie, I'm sorry, I need to touch you now."

Her mouth opens but no screams come out when I do touch her leg.

"There's a huge cut under the cloth, I tried to stop the bleeding as much as I could," Bella says.

That explains the blood on her hands and shirt.

"You did well; she would've lost lots of blood if it weren't for what you did."

My hands move around the girl's body, looking for any signs of internal bleeding and glaring at me is this huge bruise on her right side. Several ribs must be broken but examining her worries me that her injury is much worse than just a bruise and several broken ribs.

I call for Zena, "Zena, we need to head to the hospital."

She comes rushing, removing her gloves while she's talking, "But the hospital doesn't take in cases at this hour."

I already have my phone in my hand, dialing the numbers. "I'm calling Dr. Garrett. She needs x-rays, _right now._"

After a short conversation with Dr. Garrett, explaining the situation, I hang up when he tells me that he'll meet us in the lobby in five minutes.

I rewrap the gash on her leg and gather a blanket from Zena's closet and wrap Noor tightly in it, minding her broken arm and ribs. Gathering her in my arms, I rush to the door.

"I'm going to take care of you sweetie, okay?"

The boy with the gunshot wound tries to stop me. He's talking frantically in Arabic, but I don't have time to try to understand or talk to him so I leave that to Zena and Bella who half talk, half drag him with us while I hurry with Noor in my arms to the lobby.

Dr. Garrett is on the phone when we approach him, giving orders and preparing for our arrival at the hospital. He even arranged for an SUV to transport us and it is waiting at the hotel entrance.

As soon as we're all seated, before all the doors are even closed, the tires screech as the driver takes off at a crazy speed to the hospital. I can't see who's driving and I don't look. My eyes never leave the girl in my arms and hers never leave mine as well.

Whispering some soothing words in her ears, I try to calm her down. I think it works.

The events after we arrive at the hospital are a blur. Examinations, x-rays, infinite tests and everyone running around with stuff to do. During all that, Noor doesn't let go of my hand. She's clutching it with her good arm and I don't let her go until she's sedated as she's being prepped for the OR.

We found some minor internal bleeding, but luckily we were able to stop it with cauterization at such an early stage, before it became too serious, and more permanent damage was done to her body.

~~~~(((*TWWM*)))~~~~

It's six thirty in the morning, when I check my watch, right after I leave Noor's room to find Bella waiting for me.

"How is she?" she asks. The exhaustion is apparent on her face with the way her eyelids seem heavy, like they're gonna drop any second.

"She's okay. We stopped the internal bleeding. Luckily her broken ribs haven't punctured any organs. Her arm is in a cast, and her leg is stitched up, so all is good."

"Good, good. Thank God." She takes a deep breath, she's relieved.

"You know them," I state, not asking. "They're not just some random, injured kids that you found in the street, are they?"

"No, I do know them. We're sort of neighbors. Their family lives on our street, that's where I found them, hiding. I've known Noor since she was a baby and my aunt is…was friends with their mom."

So her mother's dead? I want to ask more questions but she doesn't let me.

"Can I see her?"

"Sure. She's still unconscious though."

"I still want to see her…please."

"Yeah, okay. Let's go."

We make our way back to her room but stop at the sound of Bella's phone ringing. She takes it out of her pocket and cringes when she sees who's calling. "Sorry, I have to take it. I'll only be two minutes, I promise."

I nod. "It's okay, go ahead." I could go to Noor's room and wait for her there but the curious bastard in me wants to know who's calling her at such an early hour, so I stand still and listen as she talks.

Of course she answers and talks in Arabic, so I gained absolutely nothing from standing there like an idiot. I see her facial expressions though and she's grimacing and looks like someone's scolding her on the other side.

Hurrying back to me she explains, "Sorry, it was my aunty. She…worries."

Oh, so that's who was scolding her, but why her aunt, where are her parents?

Making our way to the room, we find the boy, who I found out is Noor's brother, Omar, asleep on the chair beside her bed.

Bella stands quietly, looking over Noor. My eyes leave the little girl who dominated my every thought for the past four or five hours, and gravitate to the mysterious woman standing to my left. I watch her bite her lip, trying to hold in the tears flooding her eyes as she reaches out her arm, slowly touching an unconscious Noor with feather light touches, going over her dark hair, her bruised face, her right shoulder and arm.

I understand that after cleaning her up from the dried blood and gunk, the sight is not pretty. Every cut and bruise is so pronounced and vividly glaring against her dark skin.

It's obviously too much for Bella, because her tears break free and she holds a trembling hand to her mouth as she whispers, "Oh, baby. What have they done to you? Those…monsters." She spits the last word and follows that with some quiet but angry words in Arabic. I don't ask what they mean, I ask what's been nagging in my head for the past five hours.

"What happened?"

She swallows then explains, "Her family was attacked. I haven't seen her parents yet." She shakes her head as if to clear it from a horrible image. "God, I don't want to see them, I'm sure they're dead. She's lucky Omar was out when it happened, coz he was smart enough to distract them in the balcony with a _Molotov bomb_*, till he grabbed her and ran to his car. They tried to catch up with him, that's how he got shot."

"Who _are_ they? And why didn't anyone stop them? Why did _you_ have to take the risk of trying to save them all alone? Where were the police or the army?" What if whoever attacked Noor and her brother caught up with Bella and tried to hurt her. I swallow hard. No.

"Noor's father used to work very closely with the government before the war and there are gangs everywhere who go after anyone like him, their sole purpose is revenge. And to answer your question, no, there's no one to stop them or to save whoever they attack."

My hands go to my hair and I tug, this is fucked up. "Oh my God. Does this happen a lot?"

"More than you would think. Thousands of Iraqis are killed or kidnapped everyday because of their relations with the previous government. Many of them fled the country right after _April_ _9th, 2003*_ to escape stuff like this."

"And why couldn't you take them to the local hospital?"

"It's the first place the attackers will look. They might not care much for Noor but they'll go after Omar, I'm sure of that."

I try to wrap my head around what she's telling me. This young, fragile girl, lying helplessly in bed should have never ended up here. What the hell did she go through today? She probably watched her parents being murdered right in front of her. Being brutally beaten. Almost bleeding to death. She's only fucking _thirteen_.

Against their will, my eyes go to the boy crammed uncomfortably in that chair, sleeping with a gun-shot wound in his shoulder. He looks barely sixteen or seventeen. This boy, who risked his life to save all that's left of his family. I'm trying to imagine how he felt, what he went through and my thoughts jump to Alice, _my_ baby sister. My parents. I swallow the lump in my throat and thank all the Gods out there that this sixteen year-old kid knew how to make a damn Molotov bomb and was so fucking brave to do what he did and save his baby sister.

"I'm so freaking thankful I was lucky enough to pass the security checks with just my ID and not much fuss. I was _so scared_ they were going to take one look at Noor in the back seat and never let us pass. One of the marines actually recognized me, I used to pass by his check point countless times, transferring children," she says, almost talking to herself. "Once, he told me I had an attitude problem." A chuckle escapes her lips. "I guess being a pain in the ass finally paid off." She raises her tear stained face to mine and smiles sadly.

It's the first time she ever smiled at me. In a way, my dream did come true. She did smile at me, but the heart-broken look in her eyes, won't allow me to smile back and I ball my hands into fists to hold myself back from reaching out to her.

It's really strange, I don't even know this woman, yet everything in me longs for her. My body craves to touch her, my brain hungers to know and understand her and my heart... I won't finish this thought; I've known her for what, a couple of weeks? In those few weeks, it's like she holds strings to my…_everything_; my core, my soul and my body, and the pull is so fucking strong.

I'm still staring at her eyes willing them to give me answers, to tell me why I feel the way I do, and I can't help myself from saying what has been going through my head since the beginning of all this, "I'm surprised you let Zena get me."

Her eyes widen, she didn't expect this, but she honestly replies, "Zena said she trusted you the most and I trust her…and…" She's hesitating, but at least she stopped crying.

"And?" I want to know.

"I've seen you work; I knew Noor would be in good hands with you." This time I don't hesitate to give her my genuine smile, she turns her head back to where Noor is and resumes running her hand through Noor's hair, but I still see the side of her mouth lifting. Her smile is tiny, shy, but it's enough for me.

~~~~(((*TWWM*)))~~~~

I have the night shift today. As soon as Dr. Garrett saw my face this morning, he ordered me home. I tried to resist but he was having none of that. I bit my tongue to refrain from saying that he looked just as tired as I did, if not worse. Instead, I took my tired ass back to the hotel, threw myself on the bed with my clothes on and woke up, less than thirty minutes ago.

I can't wait to see how Noor is doing today.

Okay, I'm gonna be honest, I can't wait to see Bella too. It feels like yesterday broke down this huge wall that stood between us, at least I hope so. There's that part inside me that is terrified she's going to be as cold and distant as she always has been with me, but I let myself hope that this time will be different, better.

Hearing laughter draws me from my musings, and I enter the room to find Salma, the Lebanese nurse, with Bella, standing beside Noor's bed.

"What are you girls laughing about?" I ask while checking Noor's chart.

No answer.

I look up and find the room has gone quiet and what's interesting is the matching look on Noor and Bella's face. They have the same expressions; wide eyes, biting lips and cheeks tinted pink.

"What?" I try again and Bella shakes her head at me in a silent way of saying, _"Don't ask."_

Salma is having none of that, though, and says, "Noor, was saying how you have the prettiest eyes she's ever seen and that's why she let you treat her and not Dr. Zena."

Laughing, I move closer to a very tired looking Noor, whose eyes have gone wider and her cheeks pinker, and for the first time I hear her quiet, sweet melodic voice, "Please, don't tell Dr. Zena. I think she is pretty too." Now she's realized she said that I'm pretty and bites her lip while hiding her eyes from me. Adorable.

I crouch beside her bed and whisper, "Hey." She looks back. "Thank you. You know what? I think you're the prettiest little thing too, not only that, but I believe I just heard the sweetest voice. It has to belong to a professional singer or something… Wait… Are you a professional singer?" I ask in a serious tone, narrowing my eyes and hoping to make her laugh or smile again.

I succeed and I grin from ear to ear at the sound of her laughter, that child needs to laugh a lot more.

"No," she says smiling shyly.

I gasp. "Really? Not a singer? You don't sing at all?"

"Well… I used to sing… with my mom." Instantly the good mood vanishses from the room at the reminder of her mother's passing. I watch as her eyes fill with tears while her chin trembles and I try to swallow my own emotions.

Bella jumps in, trying to hold her own tears at bay, "Maybe you and I should sing from now on, Noor. Aunty did tell me that you have a lovely singing voice." She looks down at her, smiling.

Following her lead, I say, "Yes, and maybe one day, you will be this famous singer and I will buy your CD." I can't keep myself from holding her small, slightly bruised hand. She smiles at me through her tears and I fall a little more for the strong and sweet, Miss Noor.

~~~~(((*TWWM*)))~~~~

Only when I had left Noor's room, do I remember the look on Bella's face after I went inside. She was blushing! Does that mean she thinks I have the prettiest eyes she's ever seen too? The idea makes me smile hugely, like I won the lottery. It's not the first time a girl comments on my looks or eyes, but the fact that Bella noticed I have eyes is shocking, let alone eyes she considers pretty.

Peter sees me and we take a cup of coffee together. It's the end of his shift and the beginning of mine.

I forgo my cup and spend the whole break telling him about Noor and all that happened last night and this morning. He listens intently and his face pales at the horrific revelations of her watching her parents being murdered.

Treating people is so different when you learn the story behind what happened to them. It makes them no longer just patients, but people that could be your family, your friends or your neighbors. I tried to detach myself before, to follow my father's advice of never getting too close. I failed big time now, I'm concerned and worried for Noor, the protective side of me has me thinking about her future, her brother's too. I can't let those people get them. I just can't.

"Edward?"

Peter reminds me of his presence when I've gone quiet but all words die in my mouth when I see her face coming our way. I've been avoiding her like the plague. Shit. I turn around. Please don't let her see me. Please.

Peter, asshole that he is, is oblivious and intends, even subconsciously, on making my life hell,

"Hey Nick," the idiot says.

"Hello, Peter, um…hi, Edward."

"Hi." I wave. Awkward. I cringe internally.

Uncomfortable silence, then she walks away saying a faint, "See you later, guys."

"I _knew_ it."

I sigh and close my eyes. Of course, he continues anyway, "You fucked her didn't you."

"Shut up, Peter." I tug at my hair. Why the hell did I make such a mess of my life?

"What? Tell me. And you owe me fifty bucks, bitch. Pay up."

"I don't owe you shit."

"What? Are you gonna pretend nothing happened? It was so obvious, with the way you looked, like you wanted the ground to swallow you whole or with the way she was eye-fucking the hell out of you right in front of me?"

"I thought you had to head back to the hotel? Aren't you tired or something?"

"No, this is more entertaining than my lonely room." The fucker grins.

"Well _I_ have work to do. I'll catch you later." I turn and walk away from him but don't miss his "Pussy" comment. I make a face; I just can't deal with Peter's teasing right now. I need to figure out how to get myself out of this mess.

That night is still clear in my head even though it was more than a week ago.

_I've just kissed her and from the lustful look on her face I could tell that she wanted more. Her arms moved from my arms to my chest, then shoulders and she weaved her hands in my hair. With a pleading look, she pressed her body flush with mine and whispered, "Edward?"_

_I'm only a man, how could I resist._

"_DR. CULLEN."_

I turn around at her loud voice and find her gritting her teeth.

Frowning, I answer, "Isabella? What's wrong?" Why is she looking all pissed at me all over again?

"Wrong? Why would anything be wrong? I was just calling your name for five minutes and you were too distracted to answer me," she says forcefully.

I huff, so we're back to this shit again. I thought we were over it. "Well, I'm sorry, I didn't hear you. What can I do for you?"

"Nothing, you can do _nothing_ for me. I was here to inform you that I won't be here tomorrow, but I guess it's not that important. Good bye." And she walks away seething. Gone were her smile and her soft features and instead, the daggers, the fire and Tempered Beauty.

What. The. Fuck.

~~~~(((*TWWM*)))~~~~

The next couple of days go by without complication. Noor gets better and stronger every day and I get more addicted to her company. I'm worried for when she doesn't need to be hospitalized anymore. What will I do, where would she go, is she gonna be safe, is the Iraqi social services capable of protecting her? These are all worrying questions, which have me resolved to keep her in this hospital, until I find legit, detailed answers to them.

Isabella ignores me for the most part. Only when we're in Noor's room is she's nice to me. I was naive to think what happened would change her, it sure has lessened her hostility and anger but yeah, the old _her_ is still there.

I have a double shift today and I want to crash for an hour before my next shift, so I forgo food and rush to the on-call room. It's medium size with twin beds, small kitchenette and an attached bathroom.

I open the door quietly and peak inside, luckily for me, both beds are empty. They look so alluring at that moment that I don't even bother taking off my shoes.

Before my body hits the mattress, I hear a strange sound coming from the bathroom. The door is ajar and I curiously make my way to see what's going on.

The sight in front of me leaves me shell-shocked and I stand there unable to make any sounds or movement, not knowing whether I should stay or get the fuck out before being detected.

~~~~(((*TWWM*)))~~~~

**Molotov Bomb*: A makeshift bomb made of a breakable container filled with flammable liquid and provided with a usually rag wick that is lighted just before being hurled.**

**April 9th,****2003*:****The day of the American aerial bombing on Iraq.**

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**Can't wait to 'hear' what you guys think *bites nails***

**what do you think Edward found in that bathroom ?**

**If you have any questions about the story or characters we'd love to answer them, just Review, PM or msg us on FB, our accounts are Boo Iwmec and Reem Ooe.**

**Till next time.**


	7. Chapter 6 Enchanted

**No you're not dreaming, No we're not dead and yes it's been two months.**

**We are so very deeply sorry, life has been beyond crazy and I gotta say it's been basically my fault it took so long :(.**

**All I can say is that you won't wait as much for chapter 7. I think it will answer lots of your questions coz, get thisssss, next chapter is in BPOV yaaaayyyyy :D**

**Won't bother you any longer so, FINALLY here's chapter 6 **

**Enjoy :)**

* * *

**Small reminder of how things ended in chapter 5**

_I have a double shift today and I want to crash for an hour before my next shift, so I forgo food and rush to the on-call room. It's medium size with twin beds, small kitchenette and an attached bathroom. _

_I open the door quietly and peak inside, luckily for me, both beds are empty. They look so alluring at that moment that I don't even bother taking off my shoes. _

_Before my body hits the mattress, I hear a strange sound coming from the bathroom. The door is ajar and I curiously make my way to see what's going on._

_The sight in front of me leaves me shell-shocked and I stand there unable to make any sounds or movement, not knowing whether I should stay or get the fuck out before being detected. _

Chapter 6

(Enchanted)

_Baghdad, Iraq_

_June 10th 2004_

I don't dare make my presence known. I hold my breath and mesmerized, watch from the gap between the door and its frame, this breathtaking sight in front of me.

It's like one of those scenes in a movie when everything slows to a stop and the main character is the only thing you can focus on as everything else blurs and blends into the background. Then the scene unfolds in slow motion because it is just too damn magical and extraordinary to go on at a normal pace, you find yourself enchanted, incapable of doing anything else but stare.

Pins are thrown and in one swift motion this blue and brown veil is flying, unfolding, disappearing and this waterfall of rich, brown silk is falling over her shoulders and down her back, reaching her slim waist.

God, that gorgeous hair.

It should be illegal to cover it.

It looks so…soft and…touchable.

I fist both my hands because God knows how bad I want to reach out and run them through it. Smell it. Bury my face in it. Nuzzle her neck and feel the soft locks on my cheeks. Wrap it around my hand and… I swallow and feel my pants tighten at that thought.

Fuck.

Thank God I'm not wearing scrubs.

I'm so grateful she can't see me and I stand here remorseless like the sneaky bastard I am and watch her in the mirror, combing through her thick strands with her fingers.

I've never felt this overwhelming desire to touch anything else in my whole life, ever.

The sight in the mirror still beckons me and I see her closing her eyes and shaking her head left and right while rubbing her skull. Maybe having it wrapped and contained under that veil for long hours is not comfortable.

She opens her eyes and gazes at herself in the mirror. Here is where all her masks crumble, her indifference, her professional façade and her uncaring appearance disappear.

She seems worn and just…tired, like she's carrying such a heavy load on her shoulders.

I've always wanted to see her walls crack, especially since the incident with Noor, because it's proof that she won't be able to keep them up much longer, but seeing her look this way brings out this need in me to go and comfort her, to just hold her; God, how I want to hold her.

A huge gasp brings me out of my trance and I look to her while she turns hastily saying, "Oh my God," while clutching a hand to her chest.

This is the time when I should gush with countless apologies and flee the room or something, but no, I stand there gaping at her, saying nothing. It's like the sight of her without the veil has rendered me speechless.

Her eyes are wide, shocked at my intrusion, I'm sure. Her lips are still parted from her gasp. Her cheeks are this lovely shade of pink.

And I never wanted her more.

"Dr. Cullen?" she says, after a moment of mutual staring. It appears she has calmed down from the initial shock and now her eyebrows arch in a frown, questioning why I look like such an idiot who has gone mute all of a sudden.

I have no idea why I clear my throat and say, "You can call me Edward."

I see a hint of a smile in her eyes, but she bites her lip and resists it. "Really? Well, thank you…Edward."

My heart clenches at the sound of my name coming out of her lips and I resist the temptation of asking her to say it again.

The fact that she isn't rushing to grab her veil and cover up both confuses and thrills me, not that I'd ever complain. I don't dare move one finger, afraid she'll remember that this isn't totally appropriate and bolt or something. I want to enjoy this while it lasts.

My brain finally catches up and I remember to start apologizing. "Um… I'm so sorry, but I didn't know anyone was in here. I would've knocked or something, but Salma told me the room was empty and I was really _really_ tired…" I can't help all the rambling because I want her to understand that I'm not such a douche and I wouldn't just invade her privacy like that; of course, I'm still hiding the fact that I do _not_ regret the whole thing. Actually, I'm considering sending Salma a thank you card, flowers or anything for this.

As if she finally realizes what's going on, she looks around, checking her surroundings and apparently realizes that we're all alone and that she's without her veil. Her eyes widen then bolt to the door like someone is gonna burst in this instant, all while her hands grab for the veil.

_Shit._

"Oh, it's okay, but one of us shouldn't be here…because…um…as you would expect, this isn't really…um… appropriate." She won't look at me, her hands are working at an alarming speed, gathering her things and wrapping the veil around her head again. She hasn't stopped talking and I haven't stopped watching her, "Of course, I understand this room was made specifically for doctors and I know you have a double shift today…"

"You do?" The words slip out of my mouth. How does she know that?

Her eyes widen again as she looks up at me but she looks away mumbling, "Yeah, I must've heard Zena or Ahmed mention it. Anyway, like I said, I know you must be very tired so I'll let you rest." She's finally gathered all her stuff and is moving towards the door before I get the chance to say anything, which isn't a bad thing since all that's going through my head is me asking her to take off her veil again or to please let me weave my hands through her silk strands because I know I won't get a chance like this again.

Instead the desire to spend more time with her wins so I end up saying, "It's okay If you want to…"

The sound of the door closing after her stops me and I finish with "stay" to no one.

She's run away once again.

~~~~(((*TWWM*)))~~~~

The next day, a totally different scenario goes through my head when I'm sitting alone in the hospital cafeteria with my untouched lunch.

_I see myself walking towards her, slowly, because I don't want her to run away. I walk timidly with my eyes fixed on hers, closer and closer, until I reach her._

_She doesn't stop me and she doesn't run away, so I reach out my hand slowly and cup her left cheek. It's as soft as it looks and my breath hitches when she leans her face into my hand._

_I can't resist any longer, so my hand weaves through the silk of her hair. I run my fingers through it and my body inches closer to her on its own violation._

_Both my arms are around her now; one hand in her hair and the other cupping the back of her neck. I tilt her head to the left and inch closer; always not close enough, feeling her breath on my face._

"Edward."

_Yes, she'd say my name, but not like that, she'd say it in a breathy, seductive voice enough to kill me._

_My face tilts to the right and my nose touches her chin and nuzzles there, then slides to that softest place under her ear. I pause there for a second then place the lighest kiss. Finally, I bury my nose in her hair and inhale…_

"EDWARD!"

"WHAT? Oh, sorry Zena, I didn't hear you."

"You're in your own world today, don't think I haven't noticed," she says with a devilish smile.

_Oh, not her too._

I grimace. "I'm just tired."

"Bollocks." She scoffs.

_Divert, divert, divert._

"Are you joining me for lunch? 'Cause I'd really appreciate the company." My best smile works on her and the evidence of her blush is proof. Why can't it be this easy with Bella?

Zena sits and we chat while eating, until I hear _her_ laugh. I turn mid-conversation and see her standing with Tariq, apparently telling him a story because she's talking animatedly, waving her hands around and laughing at the same time. What shocks me is not her cheerful demeanor but the shining smile in Tariq's eyes and the admiration that shines through from his body.

_Fucker. _

He smiles, giving her his sole attention until he seems to feel someone watching and his eyes wander over to me. The smile vanishes and a scowl forms on his face.

Now _that's_ the Tariq I know.

He turns back to Bella as to not draw her attention to me and I turn back to Zena to not be considered rude and try to make sense of what she's saying from the few words I actually heard.

I'm saved when I hear the loud sounds, coming from the mosque across the street, of the call for prayer time, or as Zena told me "Al-Azan" because Zena excuses herself to go pray.

Distractedly, I move my food around and picture Bella without her veil for the hundredth time again.

When my eyes move to where she was standing with Tariq, surprisingly I find her standing alone. Didn't she join the others to pray?

When I think about it, I don't think I've ever seen her join the others to go pray. Maybe it's not something everyone does.

Ten minutes later Zena is back and Peter is with her carrying his own tray.

I'm afraid I won't get another chance to ask her or maybe I will but I don't have the patience to wait, so I do, "Why doesn't Bella pray with you?"

"Oh, Bella isn't Muslim," she says like it's the most obvious thing in the world, rushing through her now cold lunch.

_What?_ "What?"

Zena laughs. "She's not, Edward."

My eyes rush to hers. "But the way she dresses…and…and she's veiled," I say almost to myself.

Zena sighs. "Out there, it's not very safe for women, Edward. The extremists are everywhere. She's wearing it for protection, stuff like that is very common here. It's not part of her religion. She wears a cross inside her shirt, she showed it to me. It's very pretty. It was her mother's, I think."

"Oh." So she's not Muslim, she's Christian.

Peter's eyes bore into my skull, so I shut my mouth and say nothing more about it. For the rest of the break I basically don't talk at all.

"Hey, there's Ahmed. I need to talk to him about something. I'll see you guys later." Zena rushes out, leaving our table to catch up with Ahmed.

Bella leaves the cafeteria too and I'm trying to figure out how I feel about this new information when Peter's voice snaps me out of it.

"You know, her not being Muslim, does not mean you can fuck her now."

I feel my blood boil. "Shut the fuck up, Peter."

"No, you listen to me," he says and points a finger in my face. With a look around, making sure no one is paying attention to us, he lowers his voice and says, "This is serious, Edward. She might not be Muslim, but she's still Iraqi. They have customs and traditions and I'm sure fucking around isn't part of them."

"Oh, would you calm the fuck down already, I'm not gonna fuck her. And if you hadn't already noticed, she's not at all for fucking me anyway. We barely get along _talking_ for fuck's sake." I huff and throw away the apple I was holding on the tray.

Peter stares hard at me like he's trying to figure out if I'm being honest or not. I stare right back. I'm not that easily intimidated.

"I've seen the way you look at her, you know."

Fuck. My heart hammers in my chest and I try to downplay how his words affect me by rolling my eyes and saying, "Come on Peter."

"You may think that you've fooled everyone, but you haven't fooled me. I'm telling you, there's more than you think at stake if you pursue her, Edward. Just, don't."

I swallow and chuckle, then try to change the subject. "You know it does not suit you when you go all emo like this."

Either he thinks I got his message or I finally succeed in distracting him.

"Bitch, the day I go emo is the day they send us back home because people stopped killing each other."

"Yup, world peace would do that to ya."

We both laugh and the conversation is fortunately over.

~~~~(((*TWWM*)))~~~~

I lie in bed staring at the ceiling. As always, replaying the day's events, but of course, my veil-less beauty is on top of the list. I keep seeing her face over and over again. I keep imagining stuff I didn't do but wanted to, stuff I tell myself I _will_ do if I ever get that chance again.

Then Zena's words: "She wears it for protection."

I try to imagine how it might feel to be forced to wear something or be someone you're not… to survive; and to have to go through that every day.

I know it's stupid and not realistic, but knowing about her religion makes me feel like I'm one step closer to her. Like one obstacle is now gone.

Unwelcomed, Peter's words rush through my head and put a damper on my mood. He's right of course. I want to punch myself for even thinking this way. We have absolutely no chance together. She doesn't even like me.

I huff.

But it wouldn't be _that_ bad if we became friends.

Would it?

~~~~(((*TWWM*)))~~~~

Today is a good day.

How few and far between those are these days. I'm working alongside Bella and we haven't fought once; like I said, good day.

We haven't mentioned the bathroom incident. I think we both embarrassed ourselves, and like me, Bella wants to act as if it never happened.

We survive rounds, having started with Noor who's more talkative and smiley everyday. Bella is still searching for relatives who can take her and her brother in, and protect them from the gangs, but so far, she hasn't had any luck. Noor mentioned something about an uncle in Sweden so that gave us a little hope.

The day ends after we leave Sama's room. This was the first time she and Isabella met, as Sama's last visit was more than a month ago. She captured Isabella's heart with her smile just as she did mine and we discuss her case afterwards. Bella tells me her organization deals with many children with growth disorders and she doesn't believe that's Sama's case too.

Day by day it feels like Bella's facade is wearing her out. One by one, her masks are falling down and the real her is coming to light.

~~~~(((*TWWM*)))~~~~

A couple of days later I walk into the cafeteria at lunch and notice Ahmed standing to the side all alone, his hands are shoved in his pockets and he's just standing there looking distracted. He's blatantly staring at Zena who is at the food counter. I walk toward him feeling a smile break out on my face as I take in his love struck expression. "Someone has a little crush," I tease. I'm surprised someone with his skin tone can turn red in a flash, it makes me laugh.

"Hello, Edward."

"Have you told her?"

He looks away. "Told who what? I don't know what you're talking about."

I raise my eyebrows and smirk at him. "Your mom, I'm obviously talking about your mom, have you told her what a horrible liar she raised?"

He sighs. "Don't mock me, please."

"I'm not mocking you, I'm just kidding. As a matter of fact, I think you two would make a great couple," I say in a serious tone, I'm really not kidding now.

He laughs. "Me and my mom?"

I wrinkle my nose. "Gross man, just gross."

"Sorry, I couldn't help it," he says laughing, then sobers up and asks, "You mean it?"

"Of course I mean it. I think you're perfect for each other. Why haven't you asked her about it, maybe she likes you too?"

"Oh, I more than like her. I've known her for years, before the war ever started. She used to come to Baghdad every summer with her parents. And every year, she leaves before I get the courage to tell her how I feel."

"Is that what you're planning to do this time too? Because this time she might not come back next year, Ahmed. Her joining the **MSF **means she could get assigned anywhere else in the world after she finishes her mission here."

He looks at me and sighs. "I know, I just want…I hope I don't waste my chance this time, it's just…too hard. I never was any good… you know… with girls." He looks away embarrassed, "I wish I was more like you, I see how easy it is for you to charm all the women in the hospital. I've watched you, I don't think you even do it consciously, I don't think there's one woman in this hospital who wouldn't fall for you if you wanted her to."

_Yeah right. If only._

"Listen Ahmed, you don't need to go right now and tell her you're in love with her. Just work it slowly. And believe it or not, it doesn't come that easily to me. It's always hardest with the one person you want it to work on the most." I force myself to not seek her out in the cafeteria and focus on Ahmed's problem.

"You're absolutely right."

I smile. "Of course I am. I'm hardly ever wrong, by the way." I joke and clap him on his shoulder. "Let's go, we're eating lunch with her today."

He grins. "With who?"

I roll my eyes. "Your mom."

When we've reached the table, Zena looks up at us with a smile on her face. "Hello Edward, Ahmed."

"Hey, Zena, do you mind having lunch with us today?" I ask while taking a seat, and I look up at Ahmed and for the first time I notice how they both act around each other.

Ahmed is a stuttering nervous mess. He's trying too hard. It takes him a while just to ask her how she's doing and when she's not looking, he gazes at her with the same adoration I saw earlier. If it wasn't totally emasculating I'd actually call him cute…but I won't.

The only time he's able to talk comfortably around her, is when he's talking about work. What a shame.

"_Yeah, like you're any better."_ The voice in my head scoffs at me.

Zena on the other hand is oblivious. She's equally lovely to the both of us, clueless to anything happening around her.

I'm concentrating on both of them so I don't notice Bella and Zaid until they're pulling out chairs to our table and making themselves comfortable.

Bella hands Zena a can of soda saying, "Here you go, Zena," then smiles politely to both me and Ahmed.

Five minutes later Tony joins us and with him and Zaid there, the laughs are guaranteed. It's pretty nice of them all to keep the conversation in English for me and Tony's sakes.

It's the first time I've eaten lunch with Bella and I try to enjoy the peace of our truce while it lasts.

"You're eating falafel?" Her surprised tone stops me from taking my first bite.

"Yeah, I love it here. You guys must make _the best_ falafel," I say while taking the bite. "God it's delicious. And it makes up for making the worst burgers."

I smirk when I hear gasps around me but it's Bella again who speaks, "Oh, our falafel _is_ amazing, so are our burgers. You're just not used to the taste of good meat."

_Wait a second, is she…is she _joking_ with me?_

"No way, they're horrible."

"Yes way."

I chuckle at her and watch as she spreads this yellow looking sauce or butter all over her food and my curiosity wins. "What's that?"

"It's Aumba. It's like an Iraqi dip we put on everything. Would you like some?" she asks, all sparkly eyes and a beaming glow of pink to her cheeks, who can ever say no to that?

"Is it like Hummus?" I ask; I love hummus.

"Um… yeah, sure," she says while spreading a huge amount of this Aumba on my falafel sandwich.

"Enjoy." I think her blinding smile costs me some brain cells. God she's gorgeous when she smiles like that. Now if only she lost her veil.

I try not to stare so hard at her, keeping the image of how Ahmed looks at Zena in mind as what _not_ to do.

Distractedly I take a bite of the sandwich and chew slowly.

_HOLY SHIT THAT BURNS._

I try to hold it in but it's nearly impossible and I end up coughing my heart out.

"Oh my God, I'm sorry. You don't like spicy food?" I can see she's trying to hold the laughter in as she hands me a bottle of water. I drink it all and don't feel any better.

"This is nothing like hummus," I finally get to mutter out, glaring at her.

She giggles while everyone at the table, who watched the entire event with amusement, erupts in laughter. Bastards.

Ahmed passes me some bread and tells me it's the only way it will go away. After a few bites, I finally feel like my whole face isn't on fire anymore and I join in with the laughs at my expense.

"I will get you back, you know." I narrow my eyes at her and glare teasingly.

She grins with mischief in her eyes and says, "Bring it."

~~~~(((*TWWM*)))~~~~

The following days go in the same pattern. We work together in peace and meet with the others for lunch. Finally there's something I look forward to. It's sitting at the same table with Bella, sharing food, laughing and making small talk. Even when there are others around us and despite the days that pass without any conversation between us at all. Just sitting there, watching her talk freely with friends, laughing or chewing slowly on her food and her pink tongue sticking out, licking the remnants of the aumba on the corner of her mouth is enough for me; enough to make my day.

Today that tongue haunts me on the way home from the hospital. I imagine doing lots of things to it and then imagine feeling it all over my aching body.

I want to take a long shower and then lie in bed letting all my fantasies flow as I have long stopped trying to keep her out of my head. But I promised Peter and Zaid I'd meet them at nine. Tomorrow is our day off and Zaid offered to take us somewhere he said we'd like.

At this point, anywhere outside the hotel and the hospital is enough to excite me, so I rush to my room, take a quick shower and find Peter, who looks as excited as I am, in the lobby.

"Come on, man. What took you so long?"

I roll my eyes. "You do know we're not going to a strip club, don't you?"

"Who cares. Zaid said there'd be beer where we're going, man. Isn't that enough to excite you?"

Unwelcomed images of the last time I drank beer rush to my head and I cringe inwardly. Nick. I'm glad I barely run into her these days.

"Of course it does. God knows how much we need it right now," I say instead.

"Exactly."

Waiting for us outside the hotel is Zaid. We shake hands and he guides us to his car.

As we're getting in, my phone rings. It's Ahmed. When I tell him about our plans, he asks to join us and of course I accept, so I give the phone to Zaid so he can tell him the directions to where we're going.

I notice the frown on Zaid's face as soon as he hears Ahmed's name. Huh. That's weird.

They talk in Arabic for a minute and hang up. Still frowning, Zaid says that Ahmed will join us there and I can't help asking him if this will bother him.

"No, I'm just afraid he won't like the place we're going. I don't think he's ever been to a place like it, with people drinking and all," Zaid explains.

"Well, I hope us drinking won't bother him, 'cause I'm really looking forward to this," Peter says.

"Yeah, me too." I nod.

"We'll see," Zaid says distractedly.

During the drive, we all make small talk but our excitement is hard to mask. Doing nothing for almost 6 weeks can do that to you. And when we stop in front of a five star-looking restaurant, I check my surroundings.

The neighborhood is quiet except for the music coming out of the restaurant, and there are about fifteen to twenty expensive cars parked outside.

Inside the restaurant, the first floor is filled with dining tables and people eating and conversing quietly. Zaid points to the stairs and we make our way up to the second floor and bingo...

A bar.

I think I hear Peter moan. I laugh and shove him towards the bar where we plan to drink ourselves into a stupor.

Ahmed joins us half an hour later. To his amusement, Peter's already tipsy and I'm getting there. Both he and Zaid stick with cokes and we don't push. We're glad we have someone to drive our soon-to-be-drunk asses back to the hotel.

The night goes in a blur. It started with Zaid and Ahmed both laughing their asses at us for no reason, and ended with me and Peter laughing so hard that our chairs kinda disappeared from under us. That of course resulted in an even harder laughing fit by all of us.

We're in a car. I think Ahmed is driving but I'm not sure. Hey, where's Zaid?

Peter is passed out in the back and I finally stopped laughing at him, I will forever remember how he looked, barefoot and singing I Will Survive ontop of our table.

Ahmed is helping Peter to his room after I promise him for the umpteenth time that I can make it on my own.

I can. I get myself in the elevator all by myself, so the hardest part is already behind me. Now, how to get my fingers to press the button for my floor? Damn my eyelids are heavy. I blink a couple of times and try to concentrate as hard as I can on the buttons.

I _think_ I press the right one, but just to be sure I press a couple more. I think it was on the left row, now to decide which row is left. I chuckle. I think I'm a little drunk. Maybe leaving Ahmed wasn't such a good idea.

The door to the elevator opens and closes a couple of times on different floors and I lose interest and decide the next time it opens must be my floor.

And it is.

I get off and make my way to my room, but on the way I either get lost or feel dizzy... or both.

Lying down for a second can't be too bad, right?

If I just close my eyes for _one_ second.

"Oh my God, Edward?"

_That voice._

I keep my eyes closed hoping to hear that voice again.

"Edward. Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

I feel this tingling feeling on my left arm and it's like I'm being pulled to lie on my back. I oblige and crack my eyes open.

_Those brown eyes, filled with concern. For me!_

"My beauty." I hear someone say.

She furrows her eyebrows and frowns. "Huh?"

"You're my veiled beauty." The same voice says and the confusion doesn't leave the face or the eyes. I want to see her smile again, so I move my hand to remove the frown and instead my hand lingers on her cheek. God, it's so soft. Her eyes don't leave mine until my hand moves down. Her lips must feel even softer than her face, but I don't get the chance. Her face is suddenly so far away from me.

"What's wrong?"

"You're drunk."

* * *

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**Boo & Reem**


	8. Chapter 7 My War

**Okay it's time it's time it's time.**

**I'm going to rush this coz I'm getting late for work but I really didn't want you guys to wait anymore for the chapter.**

**HUGEEEE ASSS thanks to all our girls, Mayar, Katrina, Cejsmom who've helped despite their busy schedules THNX GIRLSSS.**

**Special thnx to Ang our awesome prereader and to Mid Night-Cougar for her amazing help and just being the sweetest person on the planet.**

**Okay this is the awaited BPOV, hope it answers most of your questions and if you have any more don't hesitate to ask me or Reemy, here or on FB ... OOOHHH AND WE HAVE A TWWM GROUP NOWWWWW YAAAYYYYYY.**

**Also this is almost two chapters long, kinda early Christmas gift as Trisha suggested ;) **

**Okay gonna shut up now, ENJOY**

* * *

Let's see what Bella's been thinking this entire time. We'll go back to the beginning…

Chapter seven

(My War)

_Baghdad, Iraq_

_May 22nd 2004_

The door bursts open with an explosive bang and my aunt lets out a terrified scream. No matter how many times they break in it is still as frightening as the first time, which feels like a life time ago.

I'm starting to believe they're doing it on purpose to scare us, but I've reached a point where I'm sick of being scared.

I'm sick of that feeling when your heart pounds so loud in your ears and feels like it's about to burst out of your chest, when you feel your knees go weak, your hands shake and your whole body breaks out in a cold sweat.

Your brain screams at you to run but your body is helplessly frozen.

They've done it so many times already that you tell yourself you should be used to it by now and just sit down and wait until the whole thing is over.

But you can't help it.

The moment they barge in, with their powerful bodies clad in uniforms and weapons, you can't help the terror that seeps into your bones, if not for yourself then for your loved ones. My eyes shoot to my aunt and I see her broken, terrified expression. She's also looking down at the floor and trying to look as small as possible, move as little as possible, and to make no sound at all. I know my aunt is a strong, brave woman but her girls are all she has and she'd sacrifice anything for them. She knows how much it cost us when someone stepped up to them. They never hesitate and we don't have anyone else to lose.

"Scan the second floor," the bigger one orders two of them with a booming voice. He seems to hold the highest rank, so in a second they're both on the stairs, half way there.

He turns to the translator. "Ask them if there are any men in the house."

I don't wait to answer, "It's just me and my aunt, like the last time and the times before that. There aren't any men _left_ in this family because of you."

He takes one step in my direction and I stand tall and clench my fists, I won't let him intimidate me. My aunt, of course, can't take a chance of a confrontation between us so she steps in, trying to hide me with her body.

"Please, she's young. She doesn't understand. It's just us in the house," she says in a shaky voice.

He gives her a curt nod and starts talking in the walkie-talkie. As soon as two of them get out of the family room and give him the 'All Clear', he turns to us again. "Move in there and _stay_ until the search is over."

I try to hold in my scream, biting my lip so hard and feeling my insides burning with the fire from my rage and humiliation. Who do they think they are, invading our homes, messing with our things and ordering us around?

My aunt has to practically drag me inside the room and we sit there stewing while they go around 'searching'. I only hear doors slamming, closet doors hitting the wall and our belongings being thrown and trashed. I bite on my lip again for my aunt's sake.

It doesn't take long for them to be done. And just like that, they leave.

My aunt moves to the living room to start sorting the mess. After taking a couple of minutes to calm down, I stop moping and go help her.

Thirty minutes later, a knocking on the door stops us. It's my out of breath cousin looking all nervous.

"Rita? What's wrong?" I ask her worriedly.

"I saw the hummers and figured they broke in again, so I hid in the Ammar's backyard until they left. I just… I can't deal with them again."

"Oh my God, Rita!" I cry out. That _idiot_.

"How many times have I told you not to hide out there? If any of them ever see you, someone's gonna put a bullet in your head, no questions asked. Are you that stupid?" My tone gets louder and louder and I know by the time I finish I'm close to hysterics.

"Bella, calm down, please. What matters is that we're all okay. We're safe and alive, so we should be grateful," my aunt says then turns to her daughter. "Rita, you will never ever do something like this again. If you find it so hard to be in the house when they're here, go to the Hammad's, but don't you ever hide outside like this again."

"Yes Mother. I'm sorry."

"It's okay, just don't do it again. We can't afford to lose anyone else in this family. Now enough of this and let's go finish sorting out this mess."

Because it's the three of us now, we clean faster. We leave our bedrooms to the end and by the time I head to my room, I'm exhausted and my feet are barely holding me up. I don't know how I'm going to have the energy to spend the whole day tomorrow at the hospital. Days like that are exhausting; I don't get to sit down for hours. And tomorrow is the day I finally meet the new team. A long sigh escapes me as I move my way up the stairs. Oh, it's going to be a long day, but I have to go, they don't have any translators. I can't even imagine how they'll get any work done with the patients.

I reach my room and pause at the door and take in the sight in front of me. To say the room is a complete mess would be an understatement. Clothes are thrown all over the place, the closet door is broken, the mattress is on the floor and the dresser with everything that ever existed on it is spread all over every surface in the room.

Gritting my teeth, I move inside and take a deep breath as I start assessing where I'm going to start. My blood turns cold when I see my jewelry box open with its continents scattered._ No_. My stomach tightens and instantly I drop to the floor beside it. My hands are shaking as I hold the box and look through and around it for what I'm searching for. I panic when I don't find it. I can't lose it I just can't.

There it is. Oh no.

My mom's antique crystal brooch; the only thing I have left of her. The frame is bent and flattened like it's been walked on by boots over and over again, and the small crystals that used to shape the swan over it are scattered around, crushed but still catching the light. They take me back to the times my mom showed it to me and told me the story of how my dad bought it for her when they both lived in Spain. How it was the first present he ever gave her, how he told her the swan reminded him of her because it looked graceful and held beauty that was timeless. I remember being a little girl fascinated by the way the crystals caught and reflected the light as I held it close to the lamp and listened while she told me the story again and again with the same dreamy voice.

Now it's gone. They broke it.

I squeeze my eyes shut trying in vain to hold the tears in. My body trembles and suddenly a sob breaks from my body as I clutch the only remnant I had of my parents to my chest. Suddenly, my aunt's arms wrap around me.

"Bella, what's wrong?"

"It's gone, they ruined it. Why are they here, why? Isn't it enough what they've already done?"

"What's gone?"

"I hate them. I hate them."

~~~~(((*TWWM*)))~~~~

_May 31st 2004_

As I take the first step into the hospital, I feel fluttering in my stomach. I'm going to see him today.

Taking a deep breath, I try to look focused and not let my feelings for him show.

I say hi to Zaid first then move over to where Salma is standing. Salma has become such a motherly figure to me in such a short time. I feel such comfort in her and Zena's company. It feels like I can finally have friends again, or feel safe enough to be that close to someone without the fear of losing them.

I've lost so many people in the past year, more than I can count. You just never know who's going to be next. You sort of get used to it after the third or fourth one, like you expect it. It becomes a new constant in your life, and after a while it leaves you just...numb. You stop shedding so many tears and you stop asking why them, why you. You start wondering when it's going to be your turn after losing almost every single loved one you once had in your life. But maybe it's been long enough or maybe I just don't care and have had enough of being alone.

I can hear him before I enter the room. He's laughing. The fluttering in my stomach is back and in full force. His laugh makes warmth explode in my chest. My heart aches at the sight of him. He's so beautiful. Damn him.

I find him with his tall, over 6 foot, frame bending to rest his elbows on a little boy's bed. His light brown, reddish hair standing in every direction; it's short but I love it. The way it has a life of its own, the way he tugs on it unconsciously when he's frustrated. His face. His jaw. Never in my life did I ever think I could be attracted to a guy's jaw. But what a magnificent jaw it is.

I watch as he interacts with this little boy. God, why is he making it so hard to hate him? But how can I ever do, when his eyes shine with so much kindness like that? His beautiful, green eyes. At first they bothered me, they reminded me a little too much of my mom's green ones. I still thought they were beautiful, but they have this way of looking at you that bores into your soul.

He's ruining everything. Nothing works on him.

First I failed to hate him.

From the moment I saw him in the hospital weeks ago. I still remember it very clearly. The second I heard his American accent, I poured all my resentment, all the anger, hurt and fury I had in me and tried to blame him for every thing. Of course, it was fueled by the army's intrusion the day before and I finally saw my chance to take it all out on someone.

It's taken me a few weeks of watching how amazing he is with the kids to really stop and think. What has _he_ ever done to deserve this? It makes me think, maybe I wasn't fair to him, but my pride won't let me show him my regret for how I've acted.

Then I've tried to ignore him, act professional; like he doesn't affect me, like he's not getting through to me. But man oh man, I am failing so badly.

I know it when I find myself watching him when no one sees me; when my ears pick out his name in any conversation around me.

It's then that I know I'm fucked.

Whenever I feel like things are stable between us, it's like a war breaks out inside me. One side is outraged that I'm even talking to him and feels like I'm betraying my country for even being nice to him. It's telling me the solution is to get far, far away from him. The other side talks rationally, telling me that he's a good man and everyone can attest to that. Telling me that it can never be right to just hate all Americans, to blame a few individuals, including Edward, for something they had no hand in whatsoever.

Whenever a side wins a battle, it controls how I act around him.

I wonder if he might think I'm bipolar.

It's a relentless war within me, and the only victim suffering the consequences is Edward.

~~~~(((*TWWM*)))~~~~

_June 4th 2004_

I'm driving home from the hospital and I can't hold the tears in. I need to stop crying and calm down before I reach home, or else my aunt's going to freak out. I can't tell her about Noor. Not now, not yet.

The mental image of Noor's black and blue face brings a new round of tears. It reminds me of another blue lifeless face, but I force it away and will my brain to focus on the road. I can't think about him now. Not if I have any chance of arriving home without completely breaking down.

I take a deep breath and try to distract myself with what I need to do to protect Noor and Omar. Tomorrow I'm going to call Jacqueline and tell her the whole thing. She'll know how we can locate their relatives. Maybe I can go to their house and look for any contacts. No. The bodies will still be there. I shudder.

Lots of phone calls are in order; the police, the funeral home, the kids' schools. I forgot to ask Edward how long it would take each of them to fully recover so I can arrange it with their schools.

Edward.

Much nicer images rush to my head right now. The second he saw Noor's injured body and the way it was so clear to him she needed help, everything else in the universe ceased to exist but saving her. I remember the way he held her close the whole way to the hospital, never letting her go. His eyes never left her and my eyes didn't leave his. I was mesmerized. I've seen him work on kids countless times before, but this time was different. I don't know how or why, but it was.

I smile as I remember the second he burst through the room and how his eyes searched and found me. I could've spent ages simple looking at him and enjoying the…I don't know what it was that I saw in his eyes, but I know I enjoyed it. It wasn't only one thing; they were a mix of feelings; worry, fear, relief and, maybe even, protectiveness.

I still can't believe he really touched me and can't believe I let him, but I was so shocked and overwhelmed by the sensations he evoked that my body trembled the second his fingers touched me.

A huge neon sigh flashes inside my head with the words _"HE CARES ABOUT YOU"_ brightly displayed.

No. He was merely in _doctor mode_. I know how much he cares about his job, I've seen it. He wouldn't let anyone hurt and bleed to death in front of him doing nothing about it, I know that much.

~~~~(((*TWWM*)))~~~~

_June 24th 2004_

I can't sleep. I keep tossing and turning. I just can't turn my fucking brain off. I don't want to wake Zena up so I leave the bed slowly, put my jeans on and a cardigan over the top I wore for bed, wrap the scarf around my head, take a book and leave the room.

After I close the door behind me I lean on it, close my eyes and inhale. Maybe if I do some reading it will take my mind off things.

Against my will, the events of two days ago rush to my head…

_I slowly put my key in the keyhole and as quietly as I can turn it and open the door. I peek in, hoping that my aunt has gone to bed. When I'm sure no one is there, I walk on my tiptoes to my room. I know my aunt will chew me another one for coming home this late and I'm really not in the mood for _the_ it's-too-dangerous-for-us-women-at-night-and-I-could-be-kidnapped-or-killed lecture. _

"_Bella."_

_Crap._

_I turn with a smile, readying myself for what is sure to come, but I'm shocked to see a hesitant smile on my aunt's face. She looks almost…nervous. _

_I narrow my eyes. Something's up._

"_Hey, Aunty." _

"_How are you sweetie? How was work?"_

_Not that my aunt has never interested in my job, but something feels off. Why do I feel like I'm the parent and she's the kid who's done something wrong?_

"_Okay, I guess?" _

"_Good, good. I stayed up, because I want to talk to you. Come sit, dear. _

_I have, um, some sort of news." _

_Here it is._

_She goes and sits on the couch and pats the place beside her. She's back to that nervous smile, like she's afraid I'm gonna bolt._

_I go and sit beside her. "What kind of news?" _

"_Great news. Guess who came by to visit us today?"_

"_Who?"_

"_Sarah from across the street and her two-year-old daughter. Oh, she is so sweet, that little girl, Bella. Adorable. Wish you had been here to meet them both."_

_That's what she stayed up to tell me? I'm too tired for this. _

"_Oh, that's great, Aunty. Tell them I said hi when you see them again."_

_I move to get off the couch. I'm dead on my feet and I want to get some sleep, but my aunt's hand on mine, stops me._

"_Wait."_

_I sigh._

"_She has a younger brother, he's a civil engineer. Twenty six and good looking …." She tries to rush through all the information she's got. I'm already off the couch, walking back to my room huffing._

"_Bella, I'm talking to you."_

"_But you know I don't want to hear it."_

"_Why not?"_

"_I told you before, Aunty. I will not get married this way."  
_

"_Who said anything about marriage? He will just come here and talk, get to know you and you him." _

_I stare at her with a look that says: "Are you kidding me?"_

"_Okay, but no one said anything about marriage right away," she says._

_My jaw drops. She can not be serious._

"_What? Don't look at me like I'm forcing you into an arranged marriage or something. I just want you to meet someone your age. You can get to know him and talk to him as much as you want."_

I roll my eyes so hard I'm afraid they will fall off my head.

"_Stop it, Aunty. You know I will never agree to this."_

"_Don't blame me for wanting to see you as a bride before I die. I just want us to be happy for a change."_

"_Well, first of all, I don't need a man to make me happy, and second of all, you have Rita. Focus on her, she's getting married soon."_

"_But I want you to be happy as well and you know damn well you're as much a daughter to me as Rita." She pauses for a second and continues in a shaky tone, "We've suffered so much and lost so many this past year, Bella. Is it really so bad that I want you to be happy again? It kills me to see you so lonely."_

_The broken look on her face drains any fight from me and she has the nerve to have tears in her eyes. She knows that's the only way to get to me, damn her. _

"_Okay Auntie, I'll think about it."_

Ugh, just the idea of thinking about it revolts me. I'm glad my aunt let me stay with Zena while she and Rita visited Rita's fiancé Maged and his family. I'm not in the mood for social visits and I have work that can't wait, plus the added bonus of a break from all of their nagging.

A low sound distracts me enough to open my eyes, I shouldn't be thinking about this now. When I make my way down the hallway I see a black lump of a man lying on the ground.

Oh My God. I would recognize that hair anywhere.

Edward.

Is he passed out or something? I drop my book and rush to his side. "Oh my God, Edward?"

Please let him be okay. "Edward? Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

He's not answering and I'm starting to freak out. I want to make sure he's breathing so I try to turn him over on his back but God he's heavy. It takes a while, but I finally get him on his back and then he opens his eyes.

Oh thank God he's awake.

Those gorgeous rich green eyes are blood shot, glassy and lazy as he stares at me.

He opens his mouth to say something. Maybe he'll tell me what's wrong, maybe he needs his meds or something. "My…" he says breathlessly and I inch my head closer to hear him better. "My…beauty."

_What the…_

"Huh?" Is he hallucinating or something? What is he talking about? Nicky's face pops into my head and I feel my temper flare. I'm about to leave his ass on the floor and go back to Zena's room when he says, "You're my veiled beauty," in a breathy voice.

Wait, he's talking about…me? He thinks I'm beautiful? My eyes don't leave his, could it really be possible that he's talking about me? Suddenly I feel his fingers on my cheek. I blush and the fluttering in my stomach turns to hammering and thrashing.

He looks at me, really looks at me; like I'm the only thing in the world to see. His touch is so tender, soft and light. No one has ever looked at me this way or touched me like this. It's…weird, different.

I like it.

I don't want him to stop. But when he moves his fingers down and his eyes drop to my lips, my brain screams, _"DANGER!"_

NO.

I have to move away, and I do.

"What's wrong?"

"You're drunk!" The accusation is apparent in my voice. He might wake up in the morning and not remember any of this. This all might merely be his drunken brain running wild.

"My beauty." He sighs tiredly. "Stop being mad at me, you're always mad at me."

"Only when you're being an ass."

"I can't be an ass all the time, can I?" he asks and his eyes look up at me, hopeful, scared and innocent. It brings a smile on my face; I think I like drunken self-conscious Edward even more than sober Edward. The voice in my head asks suspiciously, _"Hey, do you even like sober Edward?"_

_Focus, Bella!_

"No, you're not an ass all the time."

His tired eyes close and a small satisfied smile graces his pink, perfect lips. I'm the one looking at his lips now but I'm safe because his eyes are closed so he can't see me. I'm simply curious; I think his lips are even fuller and pinker than mine.

"You're not planning on spending the night here, are you?" I ask chuckling.

"What?" He opens his eyes slowly and I guess for the first time tries to look around and finally sees where he is. "Hey, where are we? I was just gonna ask what you were doing in my room," he says looking back at me and grinning.

I laugh. "No, we're not in your room, we're in the hallway. Can you find your key so we can take you back to your room, though?"

I suddenly panic; what if he lost his key? What would I do then? I can't go to reception and ask them for it, and I don't think he can either. Any minute anyone can walk by and see us like this. What would people think?

While I go through my internal freak out, he awkwardly looks through his pockets then gives me the 'cat that ate the canary smile' and says, "TA DAAA," while stretching his hand holding the key my way. I take it when I see his hand flailing around in all directions, afraid he'll drop it. His room is two floors down. I start feeling nervous about the idea of him standing up on his own, but I have to ask him.

"Um…Edward, can you please stand up?"

"Why?"

"So you can go to your room."

"Are you coming with me? I'm only going if you're coming with me."

I bite my lip. I already had it in mind that I'll take him to his room. It's apparent he can't do it on his own, but when he asks like that it worries me.

"_It's only the drunkenness talking, Bella,"_ the voice in my head says again.

"Yeah, I'm coming with you, but you need to get on your feet first so I can come."

Suddenly his hands grab mine and he looks so deep in my eyes. He says in a low breathy voice, "I really, _really_ want you to…come, my beauty."

I flush and swallow, he doesn't mean anything by that, right?

"Okay," I squeak and can finally breathe again when he lets go of my hands.

"Okay, my beauty."

I start looking around as he shuffles slowly and clumsily to his hands and knees. Thank God it's late enough that no one's still up. I only wish Edward would move faster so I can hurry and help him to his room, then get back to Zena's. I'm going straight back to bed, I've had enough excitement for today; I think it will knock me dead.

Looking back at him, I see that he has one hand on the wall and is slowly trying to rise up on his feet.

I watch wide eyed, praying that he won't fall down, because God knows I will not be able to pick him up. He's like thirty centimeters taller than me plus he's broad shouldered and has muscles. I'm like a small bird compared to him.

He's doing fine until he's not and almost falls. I jump forward squealing then slap my hand over my mouth and freeze when he catches himself.

I look around again. God I hate this feeling like I'm doing something illegal.

Thankfully he gets himself up, although he has both hands and head glued to the wall with his eyes closed. Uh oh. That's not a good sign.

"Edward? Are you okay? Are you dizzy?"

"Are we standing on a trampoline or something?" he asks then starts laughing loudly at his own question.

"Hey, hey. Shhhhh. People are sleeping. We need to keep it down, okay? Can you open your eyes please so you can see where we're going?"

He opens his eyes and stares deep in my eyes. "I think I'm in love with your eyes. Do you know how gorgeous they are? It's like they hypnotize me."

Not even everyone in the hotel waking up now can make me look anywhere else and for some reason I whisper, "I think your eyes are gorgeous too. They're so green and beautiful."

He's drunk, he won't remember all that tomorrow, right?

He reaches out for me again and the battle inside me begins, between craving his touch and the fear: the fear of the unknown, the fear of the feelings he evokes in me, fear of everything I was brought up thinking is inappropriate. "Edward, come on. It's really late."

He smiles. "You're a demanding little thing today, Beauty."

The football match in my stomach goes crazy when he calls me Beauty. I ignore it and say, "I'm sorry."

"No, it's okay. At least you're smiling at me now."

Wow, was I really that awful to him before?

"Okay. We need to walk to the elevator over there, because you're two floors down and I don't think you'll survive the stairs."

I point to the elevator and he starts slowly in that direction, but as soon as there's no wall to support his tall frame, he starts swaying back and forth. Just when he's about to really fall this time, something in me drives my body at him and suddenly I've replaced the wall and he's heavily leaning all his weight on me. _Shit._

. .

Both his arms are around me, his head's on top of mine and I'm surprised he hasn't taken us both down with his weight.

I'm screaming in my head _"SHIT, SHIT, SHIT, SHIT." _I keep it all inside instead, but swallow and ask him, "Edward, Are you okay?" How many times am I going to ask this question today?

"Hmmm?"

"Are you okay?" I ask a little slower this time, I think I'm shaking.

"How can I not be, you smell so good." His arms tighten around me then he inhales deeply. I shudder.

_I am so fucked._

"Um…thank you, but um…we need to move now. Do you think you won't fall down again?"

He takes a huge breath and mutters, "Yes, I'm perfect."

My arms are lying motionless beside me, but in order to keep our balance I have to move them around him.

What have I gotten myself into?

I consider calling out for Zena but when I imagine her in my place, I reject the idea, put my arms tightly around Edward and make the first small step toward the elevator.

It's awkward and not easy but we're moving.

Slowly but successfully I get him into the elevator. He hasn't let go of me. I've never had any man put his arms around me other than my father, and the last time that happened was when I was twelve. Then there's Sam. I swallow hard and push the memories away, this is totally different anyway.

My hand is shaking as I push the button for the third floor and pray to God no one will use the elevator now or be up on his floor.

When the doors open I don't move. Edward is mumbling quietly into my head. I try looking around for any movement on the floor, thankfully, I don't find any, but still, I don't move.

I'm scared of what's to come.

When the doors start to close, my arm shoots out and stops them. When they open again I nudge him a little and we make our way to his room.

The room key must have imprinted all its sharp edges in my hand from how hard I'm holding it. I feel like I'm moving towards my doom. It's silly, it's just a room, nothing will happen. He's too drunk to try anything, plus Edward is a good man, deep inside I know that even sober he won't try anything.

Okay, I have a plan; I will just push him onto the bed and leave, nothing wrong with that.

Okay, maybe I'll cover him first then leave.

Edward's weight is drooping heavily with every step and I'm considering the idea of dropping him with his key on top of his sleeping body beside his room when we finally reach our destination.

Hastily, I turn the lock and push the door open. "Okay, Edward. A couple of more steps. You can make it."

He doesn't answer this time but I try to move anyway and thankfully he does too.

As all the rooms have the same layout I know the way to the bed even with the lights off.

Slowly I move us and pray that he doesn't have any clutter to trip us on the way, but if he does I'll simply leave him, run out of the room and pretend like none of all this happened. Sue me.

Luckily we make it to the bed unscathed.

Now how to actually get him in bed?

"Edward, here's your bed. You can let go now."

No answer.

"Edward?"

I brace my legs, tighten my arms around him and try to push and lean my weight against him so he'll fall onto the bed.

Of course, I intend to push him and remain standing, but apparently he has something else in mind.

His arms lock around me so when I push, he loses his balance, but takes me down with him and we fall together onto the bed.

I don't make any sound this time. I think the shock of lying in a guy's bed for the first time in my life has rendered me speechless.

Not only am I in his bed, but half his body is lying on top of mine with his long left arm draped over me and his right one under my shoulders.

My body is tense and clenched, my eyes wide and I think I stop breathing.

Edward seems to be sleeping and he's confusing me for his pillow. First he moves his leg on top of mine then his face is apparently looking for a gap in my veil.

The first touch of his lips on my neck snaps me out of it.

Somehow I find a way to push his arm and leg away and jump, but I end up falling on my ass on the floor. I stay there breathing hard for a second. What the fuck was he going to do next?

I get up and hurry toward the door but stop with my hand on the handle, I sigh heavily and rush back to him, drape the blanket over his body and watch him for a second in the dim light coming through the windows. He's breathing deeply. He's asleep. God he's beautiful.

The way he looks; all innocent and child-like brings a smile to my face, but I don't want to push my luck and risk him waking up again so I run out of the room and hurry to the elevator. I'm too keyed up to wait for it so I bounce to the stairs, make the two flights up in no time and soon enough, I'm back in Zena's room.

I'm panting but grinning. I don't know why but my veins are filled with adrenaline and my mouth seems to be in this permanent smile that won't go away.

Getting back into bed I pull the blanket up to my nose and lie staring at the window. I'm replaying all that's just happened. I can't wrap my head around everything.

He called me _his _beauty.

He held me. ME!

Said that I smelled so good.

My body is still tingling from his touch. God he was so cute, drunk like that. I giggle when I remember him inhaling and smelling me.

"Bella?"

_Fuck._

I bite my lip and say nothing.

"Bella, are you awake?" Zena asks sleepily.

I hold my breath in and wait. After a while I hear her turn to the side and go back to sleep.

As my night turned irrevocably upside down after all this excitement, I go to sleep easily and with a huge smile stuck on my face.

* * *

**So ?  
****I pretty much fell in love with BPOV and I hope You guys enjoyed it too,  
Would love to hear what you guys think, how you feel about this new information and plz share with us how you think we're doing with this story coz it's our first time and we can't make it better without ur insight ;)**

***hugs and kisses***


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